


To See the Million Things

by khelgui



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khelgui/pseuds/khelgui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the day their teacher forces a bully and the bullied to become friends at age twelve, they are inseparable. They fight, make up, fight again – and in the end all that matters is that they still stay best friends, grow up together, experience things together. Through good and bad, to the moment they have to let each other go. </p><p>Few years later, when they accidentally meet again it feels like everything is happening again in fast-forward. Despite the years apart, there are things that never change. Has it always been supposed to be the two of them against the world, loving what they know of each other, trusting what they do not yet know, respecting and having faith in their abiding love for each other, through all their years, and in all that life may bring them?</p><p> </p><p>PAIRING: Donghae/Hyukjae<br/>GENRE: Angst, drama, growth, romance<br/>LENGHT: Chaptered<br/>WARNINGS: Eventual smut, bad language, some mentions of violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1 | Hearts without chains

**1 | Hearts without chains**

* * *

 

 

**PRESENT DAY**   
**2ND OF APRIL, 2013**

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Incheon International Airport. Local time 12:15am and the temperature is 13°C.”

It is weird to look out of the little oval window; to see the clear, blue sky of my home country after two long years away, knowing that soon I’d step on that warming asphalt again; and I’d walk through the terminal and finally be back to start over again.

People around are taking their jackets and bags, ready to put them on while stuffing their headphones nervously back into their pockets because they’re too much in a hurry to get out of the plane. I don’t know if they are back at ‘home’ again, or are they just going to stay for a while, but however, they’re impatient to get out of the here. They are not like me, who just keeps still on my seat and watches through the window, seeing how another plane on the other side of the airstrip is just about to leave, and in a minute it would take off and fly wherever it is going to.

I’m not really listening to the announcement the steward is reading at the moment; I can’t focus on anything else but the terminal looming ahead just few hundred of meters away from me.

When the older woman right beside me starts to get up and shuffle her lavender colored spring coat on, I can hear a glimpse of the announcement echoing inside the plane.

“On behalf of Korean Air and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice day!”

And here, restlessly biting my fingernails I’m not really sure if I am ready to be back again.

The stream of people walking through the terminal is making me feel really out of place, even though I’ve always lived in crowded places, and always been comfortable when people around don’t know me. But here, inside a long, long tube I feel uncomfortable.

It’s really warm, when the sun is beating down to us through the huge glass windows, and although it’s much colder here I have already taken off my thin leather jacket. Now it’s hanging on the crook of my arm, my quite worn out passport on my other hand, my fingers pressing it hard onto my palm because I don’t want to lose it when I am already so close of getting out. The sweat dripping down on my neck is not telling me about the warmth, but the slight childish stampede rising inside of me.

Although I’m trying to tell myself that I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I can’t really lie to myself. I have learned to understand myself throughout the years, and this is not one of the days when I don’t really know the reason. I know why I’m afraid to be back; to be back at the city and country I have always lived till two years ago; to be back to live here. I’m afraid because I’m not sure if the things will ever be the same, even if I don’t know if I ever wanted them to be.

There are lots of things I’d like to forget; my childhood was never as peaceful and even today some things still hurt. Yet I’m already missing the past times and all the good things that happened to me till I grew up. Now I know those things are only just memories that I can’t have back, and I’m both afraid that nothing has changed but also afraid if so many things actually have.

The worker has to call me twice before I realize it’s my turn to go through the passport control. The woman in her fifties looks at me with a scowl, and with an uncomfortable smile I hand her my passport and wait for few awkward seconds before she’s already giving it back to me, and I’m able to walk through the gate. The headphones on my ears aren’t even playing any music, but right now I wasn’t in a mood to listen anyway.

Everyone else is rushing to get their luggage, to be able to get home sooner, and it feels like I’m the only one trying to delay the inevitable exit. The worn out rucksack on my back I stroll aimlessly through the delis, souvenir shops, currency exchange offices and the people waiting for their relatives, friends or lovers to arrive, or to leave. I remember the day I left myself, but I don’t really want to start thinking about it. I walk through the shiny tile floors, until just before the outdoors I stop to buy a lighter even if I already have one in my pocket.

I don’t know why I can’t control the fear and shivers running through my spine when I’m in a place I don’t have problems communicating with people, where I exactly know where to go, where I don’t have any problems to associate with others. For the past years I couldn’t have been more confident with myself, yet here, in a familiar airport I feel like a fish out of the water.

It’s hard to breathe, hard to raise my feet and just walk and force myself to move on.

When I finally meet with Incheon’s crispy spring-air, a heavy exhale flows through my nose and I can catch the scent of bright yellow forsythia flowers, the lingering exhaust fumes and the smoke coming from the people smoking their cigarettes outside the building.

I know I’m almost back home, but my feet still aren’t very co-operative with me, and I just stand there like an idiot tourist who isn’t sure where to go. It feels even more compatible term when I’m already contemplating if I should take the bus or the train to get to Seoul. I have lighted up a cigarette, which I’m inhaling with trembling fingers when at the same time I’m putting the wire back on my phone to finally listen to some music to calm myself with this female artist’s voice, and the song that has been in my smart phone’s most played –list for a good while already.

The timetable before my eyes is almost just a blur when I’m still contemplating which transport to take. The cigarette between my fingers is burning itself to its end, and my eyes are raking the table even if I wouldn’t even remember them what I’ve been staring at for minutes already.

“Donghae!”

There’s someone making noises in the background, but I’m obviously not hearing anything because the music is shutting everything else out of my hearing range. I keep looking at the table although I’m not actually seeing anything, but the noise isn’t going anywhere, when it’s only increasing with any passing second.

“Donghae, is it you? Donghae!”

My whole body wavers in frighten when another one of my earbuds is being pulled out of my ear and suddenly the music is long forgotten when I see a familiar face, with way too familiar dark single-lidded eyes and plump lips that couldn’t belong to anyone else but him.

The chorus is still echoing inside my head when we stare at each other, figuring out that the person we’re looking at is in fact the person we spent our childhood-, teenager and early twenties together with.

I froze when Hyukjae circles his arms around me into a manly bear hug, and I don’t know what else to do but the same; to awkwardly hug him back, until something new strikes me after a long, long while.

I’m at home.

I’m actually back at home again.

With Hyukjae being there I’m finally somehow pulled back into the present moment. It’s the same feeling you get after you take off your earbuds and suddenly all the noises around you are so bright and clear, like a screech in the void. I’m not sure if it’s a bad thing, because now I feel more like a normal human being again.

It’s still the same place – the same moment – when Hyukjae pulls back and straightens his spine to stand straight. There’s a bit embarrassed grin on his face, like a kid who isn’t sure what to do in a more serious event, but I’m starting to be sure that the expression on his face is a lot because of my own, since I’m just standing there and feeling so different compared to Hyukjae. Because I’m here, a huge, worn out blue rucksack on my back, dressed in ripped jeans and a sleeveless Jack Daniel’s top where’s at least one hole on the hem, and that leather jacket under my arm, when Hyukjae is wearing slim and neat black jeans, white dress shirt, a black tie and a black blazer with dark sunglasses hanging from the highest button of his shirt.

And he looks good.

However, there’s also something different about him; it looks like he’s going to or coming from work – but it might be that he’s not and he has just…matured or something.

As a matter of fact, it has been two years since I left.

 

**5TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1998**

The teacher let out an exasperated sigh, taking his round glasses off from his face and turning his gaze back towards the two boys with a frown.

“Lee Donghae and Lee Hyukjae… How should I deal with you?” he murmured, obviously bothered to ponder this issue once again.

The two twelve year old boys seemed to sink even deeper into their seats, the other one a bit more even though he had the part of a victim here. The other boy in the other seat bit his lip and didn’t dare to look at their homeroom teacher when he definitely knew who was the reason they had to sit there once again in a mere week.

Even though their teacher usually seemed very strict about the rules, homework and stuff, with things like these he was actually very understanding. He just couldn’t figure out why Donghae had taken Hyukjae as his eyesore.

“Well, I’m not going to tolerate this kind of behavior anymore, Donghae. You can’t keep taking and hiding Hyukjae’s belongings like that, or keep tantalizing him. That has to stop. Why do you keep doing this?”

Donghae nervously wiggled on his seat and in overall looked pretty uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, eyes glued onto the floor and legs dangling restlessly over the edge of his seat.

“Do you understand how Hyukjae must feel like being treated like this? He hasn’t done anything to you to deserve that,” their teacher said sternly, eyes softening when he glanced at the slightly taller boy which books Donghae had hidden again just fifteen minutes ago, and that was the reason they were there now. “Hyukjae, how does it make you feel when Donghae does things like this?”

The boy sitting on the left chair had never liked these situations. It had all started two months ago when Donghae had started to take his pencils without his permission, and it had eventually escalated to his school books, clothes and even to his lunch boxes. And because Hyukjae was a bit shy boy, he hadn’t been confident enough to order him to stop. But at least, eventually their teacher had taken a note of that.

Hyukjae twiddled his fingers, afraid if Donghae would take vengeance on him after this.

“I-I don’t l-like it that you keep stealing m-my things. I-If you just n-needed to borrow s-something, I would, if you just a-asked. But I don’t like it when you pick o-on me all the t-time either…”

When he didn’t raise his face, Donghae turned his head towards the few months older boy, biting his lower lip and sighing.

“But you look like an anchovy – or a monkey.”

“I-I don’t!” Hyukjae whimpered.

“Donghae,” his teacher threatened, deep eyes narrowing meaningfully.

“I don’t mean it as bad thing, Mr. Han! I really don’t!”

“It doesn’t sound like a compliment either.”

“But I like anchovies and monkeys so it is a compliment!” Donghae whined with a deep pout on his face.

“Donghae, you see, you have to think about Hyukjae’s feelings too. If you say something you should think about the fact if he sees it as a compliment. Everyone doesn’t think like you do.”

Hyukjae was a bit confused and now he had a thin shade of pink covering his cheeks. He hadn’t really thought that Donghae could actually like him at all.

“I’m sorry if you thought of it as a bad thing,” Donghae murmured soon, not being confident enough to look at his classmate when he had actually been the stupid one.

“O-okay.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“M-maybe.”

At least, the situation didn’t seem so bad anymore. The teacher knew either of those boys wasn’t stupid, and maybe Donghae too was just too uncertain how to approach Hyukjae differently.

“Boys, do you want to hear your sanction?”

“Do we get detention…?” Hyukjae asked, afraid that his mother would be really angry if he’d get detention because of this.

“No. But you’re going to sit next to each other in class,” their desks were always in pairs, “And you have to start being friendly towards each other – and Donghae has to remember manners. You have to be nicer to Hyukjae. I will watch you two very closely from now on, and if things don’t change we’ll start to think about more serious penalties for you two. Is it clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Han,” they both said, almost in unison.

“Good. You’ll be friends sooner than you notice if you really try.”

When the two were finally dismissed, it was already time for their lunch break. Hyukjae silently went to his locker, taking out his own red lunch box. He still wasn’t sure if Donghae would change, but at least he would have to try if he didn’t want something worse to happen. He went back to his desk and was about to start eating when he noticed a familiar figure beside him. Donghae didn’t have a lunch box like he did, but he had two flavored milk cartons on his hands.

“Hey, Hyuk…”

He turned his dark almond orbs towards the other one who now had a shy smile on his face. Hyukjae raised his eyebrows, and Donghae handed the two cartons towards him.

“You can have the other one.”

“R-really?” Hyukjae inquired, still not sure if Donghae could actually like him instead of keeping bullying him.

“Really! Do you like chocolate or strawberry?”

“…I like strawberries.”

“Strawberry it is then!” Donghae said with a wider, toothy smile, although one of his teeth was missing.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

Hyukjae had few cookies inside his lunch box, and when Donghae was focused on drinking his chocolate carton, he managed to slip one chocolate chip cookie on his desk when he didn’t notice. But when Donghae noticed the cookie on his desk his eyes really started to sparkle.

“Ooh! Is this for me...?”

Hyukjae nodded when Donghae showed him the cookie, still wanting to be certain that Hyukjae had really given it to him.

And the grin on the smaller boy’s lips was the widest he had ever seen before.

 

**17TH OF MARCH, 1999**

It was one of the late afternoons when it was just Hyukjae and his mom at home. His mother doing those usual mom-things, making food for the two of them while the twelve year old was sitting at the table, wiggling the pencil between his slim pianist fingers and trying to focus on the homework he had gotten from school. It was one of the days when the setting sun was still shining through the vertical blinds and making shadows behind all the stuff on the table; one of the days when the sun was annoying the boy more than making him excited about the upcoming summer.

He was way more interested to go out and play his with his best friend, than to sit in the kitchen and listen to the ratter and clatter constantly coming from his mom’s way. But his mother had said that, yes, he indeed needed to sit at home and do the loads of homework before his teacher would send another note to her telling that he had ‘forgotten’ to do them. And it wasn’t even because he had really forgotten; he had just been too busy to play with Donghae at the river that day, so he hadn’t had the time to do them.

“And that’s why I’m making for you some time to do them,” his mother had said the next day, looking angry, but eventually just exhaling heavily; because what could she really do? Boys would be boys, and they would always keep forgetting their homework if she didn’t change a thing.

Hyukjae had, of course, just huffed in annoyance. His mother didn’t know anything about how important their play had been. Even though they had had the whole weekend to spend at the river, building their little secret shelter, only to go home to sleep and eat some breakfast, maybe lunch even if they weren’t in such a hurry to get it ready. The stable black haired boy, with his inherited single-lidded eyes, sighed very frustrated while his mother kept cutting the carrots.

When another sigh came, just mere minute later, his mother turned around, wiping her hands on the apron she was always wearing when she was cooking.

“Sweetie, why are you sighing like that again? It’s exactly what your father tends to do when he has to do the laundry.”

The boy in a red hoodie and khaki colored cargo pants only glanced at his mother, like it was obvious why he was doing that.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he tried, lowering his dark orbs back to the math book. The assignments weren’t even that hard - and he was good in math anyway. He just didn’t want to do them, although it would have been over faster if he would just do them.

“Try me”, the woman said softly, with a slight smile on her face, indirectly telling that she had a hunch what was bothering his son. “I might understand more than you think.”

There was a third sigh, and theatrically Hyukjae put his pencil down on the table, leaning against the backrest of the wooden chair.

“It’s just better when Donghae is with me,” he eventually said, after biting his plump lower lip for a while. His mother almost smiled, but seeing the troublesome look in his son’s eyes prevented her from doing that. Because Hyukjae was just twelve, and it seemed like he was really concerned about something.

“Hyukjae dear, could you explain more specifically? You don’t usually seem so troubled.”

“It’s just… He’s safe with me, mom.” Hyukjae didn’t look back at his mother, but now focused on the one unsolved math assignment which he got done just in few minutes. “I can’t really talk about it. I promised.”

The look in his son’s eyes was so honest, that she couldn’t push it forward anymore.

“Alright. But if something is really not alright, you should tell me about it, Hyukjae. I might be able to help him,” she said, getting a glance from the boy in his pre-teens.

“I promised that I won’t tell. And I promised I will protect him, like he protects me.”

She nodded and stood up from the seat, getting back to her cooking. She could still remember the days when Donghae had actually bullied Hyukjae; when her son would come home with a scowl on his face, and sometimes even crying. And now those two were best friends. It was almost funny, and somehow adorable. Furthermore, nowadays Donghae was the one usually looking after his son, and actually making Hyukjae more confident. She was really glad about that, although his son’s best friend made her think if something wasn’t right with Donghae’s family. So many times, Donghae came by, with clothes that were usually dirty - and even more often a bit too small for him. He was a growing kid, who obviously needed new clothes quite often. At this time, Hyukjae was fortunately a bit taller than the other boy, so she was able to pack some clothes for Donghae which already were too small for his own son. And she had never heard either of the two mentioning about Donghae’s mother, which made her even more suspicious. Did Donghae live just with his father?

Hyukjae was almost done with his homework, when his mother turned towards him again with a questioning look on her face.

“Honey, it’s your birthday soon.”

“Oh, it is?” Hyukjae asked, raising his eyebrows. He still wasn’t very fond of with the calendar, although should have been; he was almost thirteen already anyway.

“Yes, it is, you’re turning thirteen. I was just wondering if you wanted to hold a birthday party—“

“No, mom, I don’t want to,” Hyukjae instantly refused.

“Are you sure? Then what are you going to do then? It’s an important day for you, after all.”

“Can I just spend the day with Donghae? I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“But don’t you want to your classmates to come over?” she still tried.

“Not really.”

“If you say so,” she said with a tender voice. “What’s so special about Donghae, that you don’t want to spend time with anyone else?” she asked, a soft smile lingering on her lips. She wasn’t mocking at all; she just wanted to understand his son a bit more.

“Because he’s Donghae. He’s everything I need.”

His mother didn’t ask further, she only focused back to making their dinner, silently wondering if she would ever understand that deep relationship Donghae and Hyukjae had.


	2. 2 | I'll hold my breath

**2 | I'll hold my breath**

* * *

 

 

**PRESENT DAY**

**2 ND OF APRIL 2013**

I am out of breath when the still black haired man stares at me with that smile, obviously waiting for me to open my mouth after so long. But I’m only able to stutter some incoherent words.

“W-what… Hyukjae… What are you…doing here?”

He scratches his neck, but then he glances towards the car loading area, where behind a black sedan is an older woman looking at their way, her head tilted curiously while she holds the handle of her luggage. Hyukjae coughs and smiles towards me again; and just like me he’s trying to say something but it ends up as stuttering.

“I just… My mom – it’s that, that her plane just arrived and—and I’m here to pick her up. And then I saw you and I wasn’t even sure if it was really you, or was it just my imagination and I was about to harass an unfamiliar guy and… It’s really you and you seemed so lost so I thought if you—if you needed a ride?”

My eyes widen a bit, and I’m almost gaping at him, still not knowing what to say. And I think, in front of my best friend for years, why don’t I know how to talk to him. Because I’ve never been the one not immediately having words to say. But today, it feels like that Hyukjae’s mother is the one to save me from this embarrassing situation when she jogs towards us in a hurry, a wide, inviting smile on her lips while she squeaks my name through the entrance area. She makes me blush, because this is definitely not the way I thought I would return.

“Donghae! Oh! My sweet Donghae!”

“Mom…” his son whines, in a way that reminds me of the time we were just teenagers, and Hyukjae’s mother was about to embarrass his son with her accusations.

“Mrs. Lee,” I say, voice wavering when she’s the second one in a day, or actually in a long time, to hug me like she always did. She squeezes me lower, because she’s much shorter than me, and I’m forced to lay my jaw on her shoulder. But then she pushes me further, and looks at me like she’s going to scold me.

“What on earth, my son! You’re still allowed to call me ‘mom’ even if you’re a grown man already,” Mrs. Lee nags and pinches my cheeks, which makes me feel way much younger than I really am. She keeps looking at me, taking a good view of me. It’s clear that she would want to ask about everything I’ve done during the time I’ve been away. Then she ruffles my hair, giggling heartily while Hyukjae observes us, a soft, almost longing smile on his lips.

“What have you done to your hair? It was still long and brown when I last saw you. And you had the cute ponytail,” she jabbers, and I let her. “But look at you now; have you gone western or something? Blond, and trimmed sides. Oh well, you’ve always been the experimental one,” the woman keeps going, and I can see how Hyukjae rolls his eyes amusedly.

It’s the first time I smile genuinely, a bit shyly, but it’s still there. I don’t know why it was so hard after all.

“Mom,” Hyukjae starts, tapping her shoulder and trying to get her attention, “You both must be tired, right? Should we continue when we get home?”

I’m not sure if the slightly taller male notices my lip biting, but he hastily opens his mouth again.

“I mean, if you don’t have any other plans, Donghae?”

Once again, it’s so hard to think clearly. I don’t know why everything feels so out of place, why I feel like all the things I left are suddenly thrown straight onto my face, and I don’t have enough time to register all of that at all.

“I—I don’t…have any,” I mumble, and before I even start to think anything else, Hyukjae’s mother is fast enough to decide that we would indeed take the same ride, and god knows what else – because Mrs. Lee is kind of, fond of me, and I can hardly ever say no to her.

“Well, shall we get going then?” she chirps, and marches back towards the car, that most likely belongs to his son.

I can feel the weight of my backpack again, and Hyukjae shares a look with me. “Do you need help with that?”

I cough, and just shift the weight on my shoulders; “I can manage.”

There’s one of Hyukjae’s typical smiles on his lips again, when he walk towards the car.

And in a matter of minutes I am sitting on the backseat of his car, listening to his mother’s constant babbling. I wiggle on my seat when his almond colored orb’s gaze collides with mine, and although we both smile awkwardly, we are glad that we are there together. (Even if either of us wouldn’t really confess that.) In the same boat, forced to listen his mother's endless talking.

 

**16 TH OF OCTOBER, 2011**

The little studio was surprisingly relaxing, even though he was about to do something that you could not really erase afterwards. Donghae was lying on his back on the chair that was changed into a prone position, and he was just staring at the ceiling, and waiting. He could easily hear the pouring rain outside through the opened ventilation window; drumming against the ground, cars outside and the other windows. He took a long inhale, until the woman near him sat on the other chair, and smiled encouragingly towards him. She leaned forward, eyeing his bare chest observingly.

“It seems to have improved pretty well,” she muttered, and dunked the tip inside the tiny jar.

Her English was quite the same quality as Donghae’s, and he was genuinely pretty pleased about the fact.

“Are you ready?”

Donghae nodded with a slightly restless ‘Yeah’, and he closed his eyes for a second when he heard the buzzing noise coming from her instrument on the table. Soon, he felt the sting on his chest and everything else seemed to flow out of his mind. For good ten minutes it was only the buzzing noise in the air, while the girl was coloring his tattoo which lines he had gotten done here just a month ago.

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s uncomfortable enough,” he replied, but a little smirk was clearly on his lips.

“Good,” she acknowledged, “So, how do you like Thailand so far?”

“Warm,” Donghae said, “And wet – because of the season.”

 It was easy to talk to with a ‘stranger’, because there weren’t any attachments between them outside his tattoo. She chuckled; “That’s what everyone says.”

“I guess.”

“Why did you decide to come here anyway? I mean, what pulled you here?” she wondered out loud.

Donghae was able to mute his hisses when the sharp tip swept over his collar bone. The skin just above the bone always hurt the most.

“I needed a change,” he eventually said, eyes telling a long story about memories that weren’t always so pleasant to remember, although it was mostly about his own head; about the unsaid rules that weren’t fitting with his feelings.

“A change? Did something happen?” she asked, glancing at the few years younger male, who sighed deeply.

“No… Not really. I just wanted to get away…get away from the things that were messing with my head.”

She hummed, dunking the tip of the tattooing machine in a reddish jar this time.

“Heartbreak, maybe?”

If it was that, heartbreak as she called it, he wasn’t sure. He still had so mixed feelings about it all.

“I’m… I’m not sure if it was exactly heartbreak,” Donghae sighed, carefully wiping his brownish, quite long fringe out of his eyes. “It’s just… My best friend got engaged and… It just felt like I was the only one remaining the same. I didn’t like my job as a bartender, my dad died two years ago and everything… It felt like I had a huge knot inside of me and I just had to do something. And I kind of thought that maybe I should try to ‘find myself’, get somewhere else and just…ventilate my head for a while,” he ranted, at first not sure what he was even doing, but in the end, all of the words just fled through his lips and he couldn’t seem to stop.

“He… My best friend… We were really…really close and it just came out of nowhere that he was going to pop the question to her girlfriend soon, because… He said he really loves her,” Donghae took a shaky breathe, not noticing the raised eyebrow of the woman, who was pretty sure that there was some facts the man didn't tell her about.

“I just suddenly felt so alone and such an outsider, because I hadn’t assumed that, at all, because it had always been just…the two of us against the world, you know?”

“You’ve known each other for a while, huh?”

“We went to the same elementary school, and we've been best friends since we were twelve.” 

“That’s a really long time. You have to be quite compatible to stand each other for so long, right?” she chuckled, so softly that Donghae felt a lump in his throat when he thought about him and Hyukjae. 

“We are…or were. I don’t even know anymore.” 

“Are you still in touch?” 

“Rarely… I’ve been… I’ve been quite distant towards him since I left. He calls me sometimes, but somehow it always ends up as awkward as hell because I don’t know how to talk to him - because my leave wasn’t the most tranquil event between us,” Donghae explained more quietly, sinking deeper into the thoughts, happenings and feelings around that time. He stayed silent for a while, not noticing when the tattooist wiped the leftover ink away from his collar bone. 

“Can I ask you something, Donghae?” she asked, curiosity radiating from her voice, and the brunette male was already assuming the question he really didn’t want to answer. 

“Go ahead,” he muttered, a bit absent-mindedly. Although, the question wasn't exactly the one he had been waiting for. 

“You said you drew this by yourself, right?”

There was a hum, and the woman took it as a permission to go on; “Does this mean something special for you? It’s quite a big piece for your first tattoo.”

Donghae bit the insides of his cheek, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the drawing that had taken time to get done before he had decided to take it as a tattoo on his skin.

He could clearly see the picture vividly inside his head, and even if he knew he didn’t want anything else at this time of his life so bad but the tattoo, he felt agitated. Because the piece meant so much, it held so many things for him. Also the things he maybe didn’t want anyone else to know about. The drawing – that was now being tattooed onto his chest – held a picture of a skull in the middle, two reddish lotus flowers on the each side of it, and wings coming from behind it all, ending up at his shoulders. It would cover his whole chest when it would get ready. If he thought what it symbolized for him, he actually had many different thoughts and aspects for it.

“I think… The easiest way to describe it is as my life. It represents where I’m from; a broken home, which is my past. It reminds me about life and death, where I am now, where my father is, and how I’ve learned from everything,” he started, took a breath and continued.

“The reddish flowers… They are the better part of me. The lotuses are about my growth and encouraging me to change to better. They remind me of all the suffering, all the things I’ve gone through, which had also made me stronger. That even if it has been hard, I’ve gotten through it. And I think part of them, mostly the color red, is about all the good people in my life, keeping me on track.”

She nodded, a darker glint on her eyes, telling that she was really listening although she was constantly working on the tattoo while working.

“And those wings…” Donghae said, a bit unsure, even if he knew all the reasons behind it all. It was just the thing that there was someone he was telling about these things he had though inside his head for so long already.

“It’s…it’s not really easy to talk about this, I somehow see my tattoo as my personal, private thing, but I…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Even if he felt uncertain, even embarrassed a bit maybe, he decided to talk. She was a person he would most likely not see again, and there was nothing else between them anyway. It was just professional. And he sighed, ready to pour out his feelings.

“I guess those wings are mostly about everything I feel inside. About my dreams, thoughts, feelings, desires… I don’t know if it’s weird, but this all…makes me feel safe. Like…like Hyukjae did. And now, I’m here, without him, alone, but at least there’s something that tells me that it’s okay. That it’s okay to be messed up, to be scared… And that…it’s all okay to be me. Like there's still someone watching over me; taking care of me.”

Although she didn't say anything to that, he saw that she could understand when a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and he hastily tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

After a while, Donghae wasn’t sure if it had been minutes or almost hours, when the tattooist raised her head upwards and looked at the man on the chair.

“Did you ever talk about your feelings? I mean, both of you,” she mutters, trying to make it sound not-so-important, when it actually was.

“No.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Yeah... I do.”

 

**20 TH OF DECEMBER, 2010**

They had been playing with Hyukjae’s PlayStation2 two for a while already, and although it was already close to midnight, they still kept going.

Hyukjae had the white console, and Donghae the black, older one, and there between them was now an emptied bowl of popcorn and on the floor laid one Coca Cola bottle. It was their usual kind of way to spend their evenings and nights if there was nothing else to do. And this wasn’t an exception, because they had already played Call of Duty for almost one and half hours and now Gran Turismo for a while. Even if they had started to get tired, nonetheless they kept playing, feeling too determined to stop.

Donghae was the one to always move with the console when he was controlling the car, turning the console like it was the feel and cursing when Hyukjae calmly seemed to be winning again. He wasn’t a pro with racing games, after all.

“No! Fuck you. What did you do to me again!” Donghae shrieked, stomping his foot against the floor while he sat on the edge of the couch, big enough for them to sit comfortably on it.

“Nothing,” the other male snickered, “You just suck.”

“Go to hell. I’m not playing this anymore,” the younger one whined like a kid, an annoyed scowl on his face when he threw himself against the backrest again.

Hyukjae put his joystick on the table and raised his arms to a stretch. “It’s getting late anyway…”

“It’s not that late; and tomorrow is Saturday,” the brunette, a young man with a ponytail on his occipital, muttered and stood up from the couch. He turned towards the balcony and the wide window, looking at the reflection of himself from it; he had black, skinny and ripped jeans and a grey, a bit too large hoodie on him. And he thought that he looked okay, although, nothing too special.

He still had the baby-face when Hyukjae’s face had changed quite a lot since they were eighteen, letting his defined jawline make him manlier – and honestly, sexier. He sighed, pulling a cigarette from his kangaroo pocket and passed it between his lips, seeing Hyukjae’s bored expression through the window when he opened the door to the Parisian style balcony.

“You know my mom doesn’t like it when you smoke here,” Hyukjae said, finally standing up and following his friend to lean against the cold iron railing next to him.

“Well, your mom is not here right now. And even if she would scold me about it, she will never really get me stop doing this.” The fire popped up from the lighter, and while inhaling the toxic inside his lungs, he looked at the tall buildings side by side in front and around them. This place, this part of the city was his home. He had run through the same streets with Hyukjae for over 12 years already, and still, it didn’t feel like it had been enough. They didn’t usually meet at Hyukjae’s place, because his own apartment was really tiny, so there definitely wasn’t enough space to slack around. So they were most likely at Hyukjae’s home, the apartment he had always lived for his 24 years long life with his mother and father, until his parents had divorced and his father had moved into another house. And like tonight, his mother had the night shift and she hadn’t been there since 7pm, so they had the whole house for the two of them only.

It was the usual routine; for Donghae to come to Hyukjae’s house after his day at work – if he wasn’t too tired – and his mother would make them dinner and they would talk about everything, like a family. Though, sometimes they were at Donghae’s apartment too; it was at least a bit bigger than Hyukjae’s, but it didn’t really do the thing if it was as messy as it often was, so Hyukjae – as the clean-freak he was – would end up just cleaning the place from the floor to the roof so it was…pretty useless. So, Hyukjae’s place it usually was.

Donghae exhaled a puff of smoke in the freezing air, sometimes glancing at Hyukjae. There was something a bit different from the ordinary with the latter, and it was making him restless. He could see that the almond-eyed man wanted to talk about something, but had always ended up keeping his mouth shut. But this time, Hyukjae had decided to voice his thoughts.

“You know… I’ve been thinking about…proposing Hyoyeon soon.” Hyukjae’s body seemed to tremble, mostly because of the cold wintery weather, and Donghae felt the lump in his throat getting bigger again.

Yeah, Hyukjae had a girlfriend. Somehow, he always forgot the fact. Or, who was he kidding; he had intentionally buried the fact somewhere inside the back of his brain, into the darkest corner so he wouldn’t need to think about that. He didn’t want to think about that. It just…made the mess inside him even bigger and dirtier; darker – heavier – just wrong. And letting the mess take a bigger control of himself he couldn’t prevent his next words before they were already said out loud.

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Hyukjae asked, his voice suddenly – though, not very surprisingly – colder, demanding proper reasoning from the guy who was supposed to be his best friend.

“Fuck the what. What the actual fuck – are you serious Hyukjae?” he snapped, pressing the cigarette a bit too hard between his fingers. Since it was already so short, it burned his index finger and with a cuss he threw it away.

Hyukjae didn’t look any better right now. His eyes passed at Donghae’s fingers, but the irritated expression didn’t go away, even if he looked like he wanted to ask something – like if that burn hurt too much – but he didn’t. He kept his mind, and didn’t want to let Donghae win. He had only wanted Donghae’s help and opinion, and maybe something that would encourage him to do that – and yet it wasn’t anything he had assumed that might come from him. Somehow, he had still somehow known that this answer was more like Donghae. And it was the thing he had been so afraid of; because he wasn’t 100 percent sure. He had just needed that little push, but now, it remained the same.

Still, Hyukjae scoffed – a bit mad because of Donghae’s stupid reaction – and also because of his own.

“What if I am?” he hissed, pushing his hand through his black hair, eyes gazing anywhere else but Donghae. “We’ve been together over eight months…and I really – I love her. I’m twenty-fucking-four, isn’t it just something normal to do?”

“Eight months my ass, that’s just stupid. Are you going to marry her too, or have you even thought about that yet?”

They weren’t acting like their normal selves. They were tensed, pissed off and trying to just avoid the real conversation.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hyukjae asked, gritting his teeth and not understanding what Donghae was really fretting about. Although he could see the panic in Donghae’s eyes – and it made him feel so bad – it made him question his thoughts all over again. Usually they could at least get some kind of mature conversation around the more serious things in their life. This was just...different.

Donghae sneered, eyes cold – the hurt was so evident behind it all.

“Nothing. What does it have to do with me anyway? Just… Do what the hell you want.”

“Donghae…?” Hyukjae almost whimpered, watching how the other walked towards the hallway, slowly starting to put on his shoes.

Donghae bit his lips, trying not to break down. Not yet. Not here. Hyukjae couldn’t love that girl like that. Just, couldn’t. It was definitely irrational, it was just… Donghae wanted to punch something. He really wanted to punch the living daylights out of that stupid dipshit of his dumbass friend. Best friend. He wanted to forget it all once again.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” the brunette hissed. Voice shaking, yet not breaking. But inside, he was all in pieces already.

Hyukjae didn’t get any words out of his mouth anymore – and it killed him when he heard the slam of the door when Donghae left the apartment. And he hoped, that he wouldn’t have said anything; then Donghae would have stayed, and everything would be back to the same… Everything would be alright. He wouldn’t need to stand there, alone, thinking if it was really Hyoyeon he wanted to be with – or maybe, someone else.

Someone, who knew him.


	3. 3 | Beating heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some M-rated stuff going to happen.

**3 | Beating heart**

* * *

 

 

**21ST OF DECEMBER, 2010**

Donghae lived only fifteen minutes away from Hyukjae’s home, but this time it took almost thirty minutes for him to get there. On the way he had stopped over at a little grocery store to buy some soju, and he had just wandered endlessly through the streets for the rest of the walk while smoking and sipping the drink he had bought.

It wasn’t the first time for him to feel like this; as like plain shit. It had been too much to hear about the proposal – even though it hadn’t yet even happened. But he was so afraid it would. He knew he was being unfair towards Hyukjae. But how could he help it when he didn’t know how to control his growing and swelling feelings anymore? When he had been younger, it had been much easier to try to lie to his own self, but now, it wasn’t so easy anymore. He knew he shouldn’t assume anything from Hyukjae, because the slightly older didn’t know a fuck about his feelings – at least he had never talked about those straightforwardly with him. So Donghae didn’t have the right to act like this.

When he got home, his head felt dizzy and heavy after the soju and those shredded, frustrated tears that had soaked his cheeks thoroughly on the way. The brunette just didn’t have any guts to talk about the painful feeling inside him that made his heart ache more often than it was even healthy.

How long it had been, even?

Donghae had always been very close with Hyukjae, and their relationship had gotten deeper through the years and Hyukjae was most likely, fortunately unaware. Unlike Donghae who had found himself being way too attracted and depended on the gummy-smiling guy than what was understood as normal and usual for friendships. The thing was that he liked Hyukjae because it was just him. He wasn’t anyone else but him. He wasn’t the smartest, the loudest, the shyest or the dumbest, even. He wasn’t the best soccer player, the best in math or overall the sharpest pen in the box. But he was Hyukjae. And it had always been enough for him; enough for Donghae to like him so much that he couldn’t specify a reason why he liked him.

It was one of the shittiest things in this whole thing; because if he just knew a reason why he did like, then he would have also found another for why he shouldn’t like him the way he did. Why he had to be the weird one? The one with feelings towards his male best friend. Why couldn’t he just stay as they already were? Stay friends, forever, and let Hyukjae love anyone he wanted without him getting jealous about it? They could still be friends, yet it didn’t seem to be enough for him anymore.

He forgot his soju somewhere near the kitchen when he walked through it to get to his own balcony. It had been just about an hour from the incident, and he was still in a really sensitive mood. He seriously felt like a teenager again with the overpowering depressing thoughts and hopelessness. The tears wouldn’t stop running on his face when he stumbled down on the cold concrete floor, not caring about the coldness or getting sick; it didn’t matter at the moment.

What would be the worst scenario anyway? Losing Hyukjae; he couldn’t bear the thought living without the idiot monkey. He didn’t want to lose all of it, so maybe he could keep the feelings to himself for a while longer, although he had been acting pretty suspicious just a moment ago. And hell, he already regretted leaving like that; leaving while being angry and shouting incoherent things to the guy he cared about the most. Hyukjae was dumb, but what if he had gone too far this time? What if he had realized the real reason behind his bitchy behavior?

There, leaning his back against the coldness, eyes gazing upon the unusually starry sky, he wondered about a happening some years ago; a time they were 16 and 17 years old, arrogant and way more experimental – maybe stupid, you would say. But all the little details… All the loving touches, shared words - Hyukjae just being there with him every time – and few nights from the past just kept bugging him till this day. Had it been just their childish, innocent and naïve children brain thinking, or drunken, frustrated teenage hormones acting, or was it possible that there has always been something else too?

Was he the only one so lost and afraid of the world turning against them that made him deny all those thoughts and feelings boiling inside his broken heart?

 

**15TH OF MAY, 2003**

“Did she go already?”

Hyukjae walked out of his room, eyes searching if his mother was still at home – but no, there was no one in sight anymore. His mother was already on her way to her double-shift, and it meant that they would be left alone for the next 16 hours.

“Yeah,” he finally replied, making a grin to appear on his friend’s lips. The black haired teenager, actually already seventeen when Donghae was still holding the title of a sixteen year old, walked back into his room and instantly found his friend digging bottles out of his backpack.

With them, the numbers meant nothing. Donghae had always had the type of a bad boy; the one who gave them their ideas, stupid or not, and Hyukjae usually went along. Not because he had to – because he really didn’t need to – but because he wanted to. He could always take the risks, he didn’t want to be left behind, and if there was someone he wanted to experience things with, it would always be Donghae. With Donghae, he was comfortable. With Donghae, everything felt right and exciting.

He leaned against the wardrobe of his room, sending questioning glances towards his friend sitting on his bed who was just opening up the cap of his soju. It made a hissing noise, and Hyukjae bit his lip and wondered about their last time drinking alcohol. It had been few months if he was right, and that time their drinks had been quite a lot lighter in alcohol percent.

“Where did you actually get those?” Hyukjae asked, arms crossed against his chest and looking at Donghae, who in that time had brown locks with slightly lighter highlights. And Hyukjae still hadn’t had any interest to dye his own, sable-black ones which were a bit shorter than his friend’s.

“I had a deal with dad,” Donghae muttered, and some of the usual anger was visible when he talked about his father. They weren’t in very good terms, mostly because his father was a part time alcoholic and not doing much of a good job as a father either.

“Of course…” the older muttered, glaring at the bottles curiously.

“What are you waiting for?” Donghae laughed, while sipping his own enthusiastically.

“Nothing,” Hyukjae stated and went to grab the bottle of his own. They hadn’t ever drunken a lot, and before this they had only drank to the endpoint of feeling a bit tipsy.

Somehow, he had the feeling that this time Donghae, at least, wanted to drink a bit more. His father had been quite a handful for the whole last week, and he knew that the brunette wanted to take a break of it all. Just escape the smothering feelings for a while and just relax and forget about everything.

For the next forty minutes they were only slacking on Hyukjae’s bed, next to each other, side by side, and talked about everything and nothing while destroying the first bottles of their sojus. The latter still had the burning feeling down on his throat clearly, also feeling how the temperature was slowly getting warmer and his head lighter and dizzier. He wasn’t so used to that feeling, but he was comfortable when he was able to be with Donghae.

If he was right, sometimes Donghae had drunken on his own too – and because he wasn’t really proud of that he usually didn’t tell about it to Hyukjae. Donghae definitely didn’t want to be like his own father, but sometimes the temptation to lose his mind seemed to have been a tad too much. He understood that though, since he knew what it was like to him to live only with his father, who, most of the time, was always drunk when he was home. Normally, the outcome was that Donghae’s father totally ignored his son; his needs as a growing kid who would have needed something more to eat; new clothes to wear when the previous ones had already been worn-out; and the natural need for some kind of parental affection and love – but there was none. At least, Hyukjae’s mother had kind of taken Donghae under her wings; making sure that there was always enough food for Donghae too, and just showing that they indeed cared about him – although Donghae didn’t always appreciate the maternal and heartily hugs and hair ruffles being the teenager he was. But as Donghae’s best friend, being the one who knew him the best, he knew Donghae actually liked it even if he had always tried to flee away immediately.

“Hyukjae. Yah, Hyukjae.”

Suddenly, a light nudge onto his bicep made him to turn his face towards the other boy who had been staring at him for a while for being so absent-minded.

“What?”

“I need a cig.”

He sighed and stood up trailing behind the brunette towards the living room, and the balcony Donghae was so fond of. Hyukjae had never even tried, but Donghae on the other hand had been doing that for a while, despite his young age. He didn’t like the smell of it, but he couldn’t claim that there wasn’t anything, somehow, cool in it. Not the habit itself, but the way it made Donghae look like. He couldn’t really figure out the reason why he thought like that though.

“Don’t even start,” Donghae muttered when he looked at his friend who stood beside him.

“I wasn’t going to,” the black haired replied with a soft chuckle, acknowledging the warmness in him again.

“I just clearly saw the way you were judging me,” the younger one huffed. He wasn’t really offended, Hyukjae could see that.

“I wasn’t. I was just… Well, thinking.”

“Yeah, thinking about how unhealthy it is and—“

“Yah! I wasn’t, I just…”

“You ‘just’?”

“I wasn’t judging!”

“But?”

“Nothing!”

The younger one huffed out a puff of greyish air, but smirking when he turned away from the other boy. He was done soon, and while Hyukjae stayed in the living room, Donghae went to fetch other bottles for them to drink.

In the next hour they had talked, argued, laughed, acted like idiots and laughed again like little crazy hyenas whilst lazily sprawling on the leather couch. And they indeed had had fun. Donghae had also noticed that Hyukjae was already quite drunk, as opposed to him who certainly had a bit better alcohol tolerance. But yes, he was quite drunk too.

The brunette leaned his cheek against the couch’s backrest and gazed at his friend, incoherent thoughts playing inside his head and bothering his focus on his friend’s babbling about something he didn’t even remember wholly anymore. He felt so warm and energetic, but still too lazy to do else, until there was a hiss and one soju was meeting his lips again. There was a laid-back silence, a heavy sigh and a fidgety shuffle coming from the left side. Not long after that Hyukjae took off his black hoodie and threw it on the armchair, huffing. His cheeks were redder because of the alcohol, but Donghae didn’t really care.

That boy was still his definition of flawless, with his pink lips and…and he noticed he was doing it again; staring at him; drowning deeper into his thoughts and forgetting everything else. Hyukjae had always been handsome and cute, but these days he could really prefer to use the word beautiful. And it made him feel so queasy, nervous and irritated. He had really tried – seriously tried to find something similar from the girls of their class, or the whole freaking school, yet the result had always been the same; he only saw those things in Hyukjae.

But this feeling will most likely go away eventually, he kept telling himself.

“Dammit, why it is so freaking hot here?” Hyukjae suddenly groaned, and the younger could only chuckle to that.

“Because you are drunk, idiot.”

“Am not that drunk,” he mumbled quietly, fidgeting again, and when Donghae threw an unbelieving look towards him, he seemed to grant his defeat. “Well, maybe I am… A little…” He was slurring slightly. “But I’m really…really hot.”

Donghae raised his gaze to him, studying him with his eyes because that wasn’t just whining anymore; it was almost like a whimper. And it made him think about things that were a bit…wrong. But still, he kept staring at him, moving his eyes thoroughly on Hyukjae’s body while in the back of his mind he was scolding himself for doing that. But now when they both were on their drunken states, Donghae laid his eyes on Hyukjae’s crotch area, immediately trying to stop his eyes from widening when he saw the quite an evident bulge on him. He swallowed the soju-flavored saliva down his throat, attempting to look anywhere else but there. But it was pretty pointless.

If he didn’t feel hot already, now his own body was seriously heating up too. Despite his drunken state, he knew it would be just wrong to do anything. He shouldn’t take an advantage of Hyukjae who was clearly more wasted than him, even if was really tempting him. But then, the drunkenness started to seek for goddamn excuses to do otherwise. What if Hyukjae wouldn’t remember anything? What if he wouldn’t mind in that state? What if he just wouldn’t mind because he was too horny to think else? And because Donghae definitely was a teenager full of way too lively hormones, a teenager who always ended up playing with fire, he wasn’t enough on his senses anymore to prevent himself for starting things from happening.

“You’re…you’re…” he started, the fear eating his mind when he would still clearly make it stop.

Hyukjae looked at him, his almond shaped, dark eyes showing the embarrassment, but also, the uneasiness because of his physical reactions – which was only because of the alcohol, of course.

“Y-you have a boner?”

“Well, yeah. I’m freaking horny,” the latter snorted and brought his palm over his eyes. Like it would make it even a little bit easier to be when he couldn’t see any evidence of that.

Donghae swallowed again. His heart had started to beat so damn loudly and in an erratic way he had never really felt before. Everything was so fucked up inside him that he wasn’t sure how long he would even care about it anymore. He had been changing a lot from the inside for the last year, trying to find a logical answer for his questions about everything. It had taken so long to confess and realize that he had actually fell in love with Hyukjae. And whenever they were together, it only felt like growing bigger and harder, more painful and achingly. It hurt even more to be with him. But he wouldn’t forgive himself if he would lose Hyukjae because of his wrong and crooked feelings. He wanted to be allowed to voice all of it out, to be able to freely say it without being scared about so many things that would go wrong. So he kept silent. And he would keep it that way – even if his actions would tell otherwise. He was insecure, asking for approval for his existence. He just hoped that there would be even one person who would take him as he was. But the problem was that he wanted that person to be Hyukjae more than anything else.

Hoping that Hyukjae wouldn’t freak out, hoping that he could trust the alcohol this once, he moved slowly closer towards his best friend. Donghae bit his lip and tried to swallow the lump in his throat – so afraid that everything would start falling apart because of his uncontrollable feelings.

“I could…” he started, so quietly it was almost inaudible for even himself. “I could help you…with that.”

Donghae had almost started to hope that Hyukjae wouldn’t have heard even that, but it was too late.

“W-what…?” Hyukjae’s wording was a mix of a chuckle and feel of an uncertainty – a bit expectant, even.

“I can help you,” Donghae said, so softly and so close to Hyukjae’s ears he felt shivers running through his young body. And he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel like that; if it was normal to feel like that, because the reason of his reactions was Donghae.

“B-but—Hae it’s…”

“It’s okay.”

Donghae was so afraid when he placed his hand on Hyukjae’s crotch, fingers trailing painfully slowly towards the button of his pants.

“D-Donghae—“

“It’s okay,” the younger repeated. He wasn’t even sure anymore if it was meant for Hyukjae or himself, but he hoped it would help either way.

The button was soon opened, and after that it took only a half of a second to get the zipper down. The brunette glanced downwards once, then only focusing on Hyukjae who was now looking at him without the hand over his eyes anymore. Hyukjae’s pink lips were opened slightly, breathing quite heavily when the younger was about to touch the bulge still inside his boxers.

“B-but—No, it’s not—don’t… Just…listen Hae—A-ah.”

Donghae’s hand was now slowly stroking his erection through the black boxers and he knew it just couldn’t be alright; that it was wrong and weird and everything, but… He couldn’t stop it. His stomach was churning in heat and things he couldn’t understand, and it felt so good it was just impossible to think anything anymore. Maybe the reason for the fireworks inside him was that it wasn’t just his own had; that it was someone else touching, and maybe it could have been anybody else too and it would have been the same. Maybe it wasn’t even so good than how some girl would have made it feel. Maybe it was just his imagination playing with his mind when it felt so wrongly right when it was Donghae.

But the fact that his male best friend was jerking him off soon didn’t matter anymore. He just couldn’t care when Donghae’s fingers moved over the tip, and how his thumb brushed the underside of his shaft. When it suddenly ended, and then came back even better when that hand slid under his boxers and he could now feel the warmness of Donghae’s hand around him, making him feel so good he didn’t even realize that he had his eyes closed. Maybe it was for the better; because then it would have been too real to understand that his best friend was now also kissing him. Brushing his lips cautiously against his own, sometimes nibbling with his teeth and tilting his head to make it feel even better…

Hopefully, it was all just a dream and he wouldn’t need to be afraid to wake up.

The reality still was with the fact that Donghae was indeed kissing Hyukjae, not caring about the consequences – because he wanted it more than anything right now. He felt so much warmer, so much better when he was able to touch Hyukjae. Make him feel good and kiss his soft lips that slightly tasted like soju and something just so Hyukjae.

Donghae kept stroking and listening to those tempting moans and pleasured groans while looking at him like Hyukjae was the most beautiful thing on earth. He was surprised how many new feelings there came with this all, with all those feelings and sensations there already were. If it would have been different, he would have had the chance to say those things. But the reality was brutal and sinful, so he left all those things unsaid.

“Ah, f-fuck…”

Donghae glanced at the other, first biting his lip and then silencing those moans with his own lips, feeling so hard inside his own pants but knowing that he wouldn’t do a thing for it yet.

“Ah—Hae…”

He gulped and tried to keep himself sane when his best friend came onto his hand, panting and heaving, lips swollen and red, and Donghae’s fingers soaked from his cum…

“Shit that felt so good…” Hyukjae gasped; voice hoarser and lower than before. He rested his head against the backrest and took a deep inhale, not even noticing when Donghae wiped his fingers onto his shirt and silently closed Hyukjae’s pants.

When Donghae stood up – about to go change his shirt and jerk himself off in the bathroom – he knew Hyukjae would already be fast asleep, fallen into the hangover slumber that would most likely erase his memory and undo everything they just went through.

Later, Donghae found himself sitting and leaning against the bathroom door, and this time, his hand stained by his own cum. He tried so hard to stop the sobs that had already been coming for a good while, cheeks salted from his tears. And he felt more alone than ever before. He just had to wait for the sun to rise again, to bury all these bleeding feelings even deeper… To forget them once again.

 

 


	4. 4 | What if feels like to be lost

**4 | What if feels like to be lost**

* * *

 

 

 

**9TH OF MARCH, 2011**  
 **19:45**

He knew that nothing was going to stay the same, and he knew the people closest to him wouldn’t have assumed for him to do something like this.

Donghae strolled around his now very empty apartment, checking that there was nothing to be left behind anymore, and that every cupboard or wardrobe was now emptied from all of his stuff. It felt weird to be really doing things, in his own peace, in an emptied apartment that once was so full of his stuff. Like clothes scattered around, this and that all around the place. The printed papers on the kitchen table were still haunting him, although those were everything this was about.

One month ago he had terminated his tenancy in this apartment, leaving the last month for packing his stuff and getting them away before someone new would come to make it as his or hers home again. Few weeks ago he had also terminated himself from his work as a bartender, and just two days ago he had really been there doing his last shift. Now he was here, alone, packing the last pieces of his belongings and trying to bear with the agitation flaming inside him – still trying to make some sense of it all. He had been thinking about it for a good while already, and after Hyukjae’s announcement about the thing that he was going to propose his girlfriend, it had only added more fuel to his fire to let it all behind.

At this time of his life, he only wanted to get away from it; to escape the feelings he wasn’t able to hold under control anymore; to avoid the situations that didn’t hurt like this in the beginning; to clear up his mind and get his mind back to the order of priorities; just to stop his heart’s aching because he couldn’t bear to be close to him anymore. It was too painful, too hard to fake his smiles and laughs anymore, too hard to prevent his jealousy from showing and just too much of everything. Although he was fearful and uncertain about his decision to leave, he was also excited to start anew in a place he didn’t know anyone; in a place he would be the foreigner, lost and a person with past no one else knew about. He wanted to be alone; to get his mind up from the dark abyss and hopefully, heal his aching heart.

If he was lucky, he might forget Hyukjae soon enough and be able to feel finally free again. Maybe he could find something, or someone, to make him forget.

He took his old keys and separated them from the apartment’s one – which he put on the table for the landlord to come to take later – but when he took a note of his keychains he felt an uncomfortable tug inside him again. His eye landed on the old, already threadbare clownfish chain he had gotten from the person he was going to run away. Even if the memory of them going to the amusement park in a hot summer day almost 12 years ago was heartwarming, it also made the leave so much harder again.

He could remember that day very well although it was so long time ago, but he had always held it dear to him since it was the first year of being friends with Hyukjae. And that day they had had so much fun; they had been so free and childish and naïve, so honest and fearless when everything they needed was to just be with each other. That day Hyukjae had insisted that he was going to win something for Donghae from the shooting stall, and had eventually ended up only with a little fish-keychain. But Donghae couldn’t had have been happier because of it, because the point was that it was from Hyukjae – nonetheless what it was. And since that day he had always kept it with him.

Now, he was already 24 years old, and for a minute he contemplated if he really should throw it away already. But in the end, he wasn’t capable of doing that. Donghae tucked the keychain inside his pocket and raised his blue, new backpack from the floor. When he saw his own reflection in the mirror on the wall, dressed in blue jeans, burgundy red hoodie and a black cap, tickets burning inside his pocket, he thought he was ready to go and leave all the wrong feelings behind.

 

**19TH OF FEBRUARY, 2011**

It was cold, freezing even. He had his hands covered with the ends of his sleeves, trying to fight against the northern wind breeze that had blown over the city for the whole week already.

“Hyukjae… I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, walking beside his friend and hearing the snow crunching under their shoes.

Donghae’s home building was just few hundreds of meters away, yet he had not a single clue what was soon to become. What would soon to be truer than anything before; what would soon turn his world upside down. He wasn’t prepared – not at all.

Not for this.

“I’m leaving...in two and half weeks. I’m going… Away for a while,” Donghae said, his words unreadable from any clearer emotions, his eyes not showing any feeling for Hyukjae who had just stopped on his tracks. “For a year or two, maybe...”

Hyukjae was staring at the young man just few steps behind who had his head tilted tiredly towards the other side, eyes gazing anywhere else but him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice impatient and almost demanding. This was not something he had been waiting for to hear tonight; they had had just been hanging around with their other friends Kangin and Sungmin from their high school, and Heechul from Hyukjae’s college years.

“I’ve bought a one-way ticket to Bangkok. I’m leaving in the 9th of March.”

If Hyukjae knew his best friend at all, he could say with assurance that Donghae’s voice was wavering a little. He also knew he had his own lips parted in awe, trying to understand what the hell was actually happening. When he heard those words, and when they finally really sank in after almost a minute, it felt like it was the first time when the whole world stopped from turning. He had never feared about this – or even given it a thought – that someday, Donghae might not be there for him anymore. That someday he could lose him, just like that, so easily like an air balloon was popped with a needle right to his face – and with the mere pop, it would all become true. And this was the time for the biggest bang in his life.

He was literally gaping, trying to find some coherent words and trying to put his thoughts back together again before he'd be able to say anything for an answer.

“What? W-why? Hae, why?” he asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows when his almond eyes started to have the look of a kicked animal; not sure if he should fight back or just surrender for its predator. But it felt like Donghae had some kind of a monologue to tell him; like it was prepared beforehand so it would be easier to say without any extra emotions.

“H-Hyukjae,” Donghae said, and Hyukjae’s name was the only word where Donghae sounded like he would break down right in that instant. “I want change. I’m sick and tired of my job as a bartender. I’m exhausted from pouring thousands of drinks and listening to people’s problems. I want something different. You know I’ve always wanted to travel — and I think it’s time.”

“But—“

“It’s decided... I’m leaving,” Donghae immediately interrupted him, like he was trying to act like it didn’t matter to hear Hyukjae’s broken tone. “I’ve already rescinded my lease with the landlord. I already have the ticket and I’m soon going to resign myself from my job too,” he stated, like it was the most likely thing he would ever do.

His words were colder than Hyukjae thought he had ever heard from him like this. Yes, they had sometimes been angry, fighting and whatnot with each other, but it had never been like this before. Like Donghae was intentionally distancing himself from him. Why would he do that? They were best friends after all, weren’t they?

Hyukjae didn’t know what to do or say. He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt this way before; like there was a huge, enormous brick down inside of his stomach right now. The lump that had started to grow inside his chest and throat had only started getting bigger and bigger. It was a burning feeling; like someone could have just stabbed him and turned the blade in the wound, making him want to scream in pain. He wanted to cry like a kid. He wanted to ask questions like why and why, and just why. He wanted to know why Donghae was acting like this towards him. He wasn’t himself at all. It was almost like…like he was hurting inside. Like he had held something inside him for so long that Hyukjae was only now able to finally discern it. Had Donghae always looked like this? Or had it been just for a while? Weeks, months – could it even be years? Why hadn’t he noticed the dull blankness inside those chocolate eyes despite the fact he had been smiling? Could he even call himself a friend if he really hadn’t noticed? Why Donghae looked so hurt and vulnerable? Why did it look like he had just given up with everything?

Why was he feeling so full he almost couldn't breathe, and at the same time, emptier than ever? Why was his heart beating so fast; in such an erratic way like he was going to have a seizure? Why were all those thoughts from the days he was just a teenager filling and playing with his mind again? Why was his heart aching like never before and making him want to do things he had never understood while being younger?

He wanted to just cup those soft cheeks with his hands, and kiss those thin, pouty lips only to make Donghae change his mind—but wasn't kissing to prevent him from leaving something like a boyfriend would do? Not your best friend? Why did he want to kiss Donghae with much more sweetness, gentleness and care than he had ever kissed his own girlfriend?

In the moment when he wanted to say so much he suddenly felt so powerless and in lack of words to explain anything. His tongue was stuck back in his throat while the only thing he was able to really do was to prevent any tears from falling by batting his eyelids. He wasn’t a teenager anymore for Christ’s sake, he was a grown up adult and he should already know where to stand with himself.

Yet today, when the snow had started to fall heavier than had snowed in few years, he had never felt so lost before. Why the only thing repeating in his mind, erasing every word from his dictionary, was the need to say out loud something that had never crossed his mind like this in the past?

What if I was... In love with you?

Despite the desire to say those words, his brains took over his heart, like it always did; “I-if that’s really what you want…”

He didn’t notice the uncertainty when Donghae swallowed before he opened his mouth again.

“It is. I need it.”

“B-but you will come back, right?”

“Yeah,” Donghae muttered. “I just don’t know when.”

Hyukjae almost couldn’t feel his freezing hands anymore. He didn’t notice how his nails dug against his palms when he looked somewhere up to the sky to let the breeze dry out the tears in his eyes.

“You know… Are there…other reasons why you want to leave? And why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Donghae lighted up a cigarette, and in the meanwhile Hyukjae was able to wipe away the tears that had accidentally flowed down on his cheeks. The younger one of them was biting his lips, gazing somewhere into the void like he had done for the whole conversation. Even once he hadn’t really looked Hyukjae in the eyes.

“Well…”

Hyukjae was pretty sure he heard a sniffle that wasn’t his own.

“There’s something I can’t have in here, and it’s making me insane... I just have to do something else. To forget about… Everything.”

Hyukjae felt the painful tug in his chest again.

“E-everything…?”

“Most of it.”

What if he would have told Donghae that because of this, he was actually waking up to his feelings for him…? That all the things that had confused him since he was seventeen, were actually true? That the things he had denied for so long were now finally taking over him. That he had never really loved his girlfriend(s). That he had always hated himself because of this forbidden feeling. That he had always been too afraid to be different.

He still was.

  
 **1ST OF MARCH, 2011**

Mrs. Lee was cooking in the kitchen and making some of the dishes he knew his son loved the most. Sometimes she had been glancing over Hyukjae, eyeing the young man sitting on the couch and obviously absent-mindedly watching the television – because she knew Hyukjae wasn’t interested in cooking programs, and right now it was already the second one playing on the screen. She didn’t really mind that his son was spending so much time at home again, but she was seriously getting worried because Hyukjae just hadn’t been himself for the past week. He was being unusually silent, mostly minding his own business and not telling freely about everything like he normally did. These days, since he was an adult already, Hyukjae preferred to stay at his own apartment for the most of the time. But it had been already four days since he had slept at his own home. And she just couldn’t look over it anymore, when there was clearly something going on with him.

She had been thinking if he had had a fight with his best friend, because although Donghae was working and living on his own too, she usually saw him at least once in a week. And it had been almost one and half since the last time.

The demandingly boiling kettle soon took her attention back to the dinner, but she still couldn’t have peace of mind when his son was acting like this. She was his mother after all; she knew his son and usually could guess what was going on – because normally Hyukjae told her if something was bothering him. For the rest fifteen minutes, she let it go, but after she called the son to eat, and she had to watch him picking his food like he was deep in his thought she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hyukjae, what’s bothering you?” she started softly, “You have been acting oddly for the past week. Did something happen?” She looked at him thoughtfully and eyes full of concern. For her surprise, Hyukjae brought his hands down on his lap and leaned against his chair, letting out a frustrated, almost a shaky breath. He seemed to be confused and constantly thinking about something very hard.

“Mom…” he started with a very uncertain tone, and she was contemplating if Hyukjae would actually tear up in a minute. But he took another breath, and leaned his elbows against the table and lowered his almond shaped eyes to his food.

“Did you guys have a fight?” she asked, making Hyukjae to raise his gaze towards her, a puzzled look on his face like asking how she was able to always guess somehow right. It was obvious, that she meant Donghae, and not Hyoyeon, for example.

“It… It wasn’t a fight.”

She could easily discern the sadness radiating from his eyes, but she was being pretty sure there definitely was something else too. Something, she hadn’t seen in a long time. Because years ago, when Hyukjae was just a teenager, it had been much often that she saw that confused look in his eyes. And she had always thought that it would be better for him to realize and understand things by his own self; try to seek for the answers on his own to find who he was. For now, she kept her mouth shut because Hyukjae usually didn’t need such a big push to open up. This time, it didn’t seem to be the case though, so she decided to help; “If it wasn’t a fight, why are you so upset?”

 

**9TH OF MARCH, 2011**  
 **21:10**

Hyukjae swallowed nervously, still trying to sort out the big mess he had had inside his head since the last time he saw Donghae – which was only three days ago, but it had all felt so weird and confusing that it felt like it had actually been much longer.

The bile inside him had only gotten darker and heavier again by the days passing by. He could still feel the same feelings from the night Donghae told him, and just thinking about it made shivers run down on his spine. It was crazy, because he had have never felt so lost before. He had mostly spent his days alone, going for work and doing his job like a ghost to return home the same. He was absent-minded, and everything felt like going in slow-motion. He had also managed to piss off Hyoyeon by forgetting their date and not answering on his phone, but somehow he just couldn’t care less. And like today, he had been sitting in his own apartment’s windowsill, just staring at the illuminated sight of his hometown, while twiddling a golden ring between his fingers. A ring, he had bought not so long while ago, for proposing his girlfriend in the near future. But now, the glimmering object only gave him a cold feeling.

The first plan had been to propose her on the Valentine’s Day, but that time, Hyoyeon had actually been sick and they had cancelled their date. And so he had decided that he would do it later, when moment would be right for it. In the end, he had delayed it, over and over again, until he had almost forgotten it completely. But after Donghae told him that he was leaving – leaving for a long time, he had remembered the shimmering thing again and since then he had been staring at it, lost in his thoughts. Because it was supposed to be a ring that would seal the relationship with Hyoyeon, but after buying it, it felt more like it was the exact opposite. And still, staring at the ring for minutes, or maybe even for hours, he hadn’t got any answers yet. He was still lost and feeling insecure; feeling so heavy and different because of the things he had thought along the days and weeks – actually, along the years.

He knew it wasn’t normal to prefer your friend’s presence over your girlfriend’s you almost wanted to propose to. He knew it wasn’t right to memorize totally different lips against his own when he was kissing her. And the worst one didn’t make it any easier; he knew it was sinfully wrong to have images of wholly different body when he came inside her while having sex with his girlfriend. And he knew he had been lying and denying himself for so long that he was now able to keep it as a secret from everyone. The problem was that he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to fake those things anymore.

When he glanced up to the sky again, he could see an airplane flying over the city, heading up to a location he knew nothing about. He wasn’t sure if it was the plane Donghae might be on – if it was the plane that was taking his friend away for him. Hyukjae didn’t know for how long the tears had ran down his face, and while wiping them off with this other hand he took his phone out from his jeans’ pocket and opened a blank message to write on.

At least, Donghae had said that he would come back, someday.  
Even if it made him feel a stabbing pain inside his chest to feel like the pathetic human being he was, he wasn’t able to make his fingers type anything else but a simple text that was so far away from all the things he actually wanted to say.

**To: Hae**  
 _Don’t you dare to forget me, because we’ll always be best friends, right? Have a safe flight! I’ll be waiting for the day you come back._

Now he just had to wait for the time to pass by, and maybe, by then he would have already figured himself out. And maybe, he would be brave enough. Maybe he would finally have the courage to admit that no girl would ever make him feel the same things that Donghae was able to.


	5. 5 | You hold me in the dark when the storms arrive

**5 | You hold me in the dark when the storms arrive**

* * *

 

 

  
**29TH OF JULY, 2000**

Hyukjae was already running towards his best friend when he saw his thirteen year old friend sitting on the stair in front of the building’s door where Donghae lived. He was able to discern some papers on the boy’s hands, but he couldn’t exactly wrap his head around what they actually were. When he got closer, he slowed his steps but when he saw that something was definitely wrong, he rushed towards the other boy again.

The younger of them was biting his lip, looking like he had been crying. Donghae usually wasn’t one to talk about if he had been crying, and Hyukjae didn’t ask, because he knew the boy most likely wouldn’t answer.

“Donghae…?”

The boy raised his head, and gave Hyukjae a sad look. Then, he looked at the papers and sketch pads on his lap, biting his lip again. The slightly older boy sat down beside him, turning his head towards Donghae, looking at him with worry. It was evident, that Donghae tried very hard to stay calm and strong. Even if Hyukjae wouldn’t mind if he would start crying. He never did, although it also scared him a bit to see him crying because he wasn’t always exactly sure what to do.

There was also anger in the other boy’s eyes, something that had started to flare up a while ago already. He knew Donghae kept a lot inside of him – maybe, because no one had probably ever said that it was okay to be sad, broken or hurt. He had learned to be hard. Hard about the sentimental emotions everyone had, but not everyone was free to feel them.

Hyukjae had always been the crybaby of the two, and Donghae had definitely seen him cry few times. And the last time wasn’t even so long time ago.

“I hate him”, Donghae suddenly said. His voice was tough, even if he had the need to cry. Donghae could sometimes be like a dog always barking but no bite. But maybe Hyukjae was the only one he had accepted to pet him.

“Who?” Hyukjae frowned. Though, he had an idea.

“My dad. He’s an ass.”

Donghae was also the one who did cuss quite a lot. Mrs. Lee never approved with that, and to her, Donghae actually apologized – but not to the many others.

The black haired boy took a new look on the papers, and finally saw that most of them were torn apart. His heart started to ache even more, and he could somehow guess what had happened before he came. His eyes roamed back to Donghae’s sad, rounder eyes.

“Mind to talk about it?” Hyukjae asked softly, shifting on his place to have a better posture. Because he could see, that Donghae wanted to rant. And he was usually right about it.

“We had a fight. Again. I’ve already stopped counting – it was probably the billionth time already. He was drunk. But he wasn’t so drunk that he would have blacked out, but he was drunk enough to start blame me about everything,” the brunette spoke, clenching his fists around the corners of the papers. “He kept bugging me, saying, that I’m just a worthless piece of shit – stupid boy who only causes trouble to him and doesn’t do anything right. Not that anything about that was new to me.”

Hyukjae could remember times when people had asked Donghae if he had some troubles. Teachers, the school’s counselor, his mother. But Donghae always just smiled brightly and shook his head, lying; “Everything’s fine.”

Clearly, everything wasn’t. Maybe, if someone knew the truth things might have changed. There were times when they had even fought about that one; times when Hyukjae had insisted to tell his mother about Donghae’s father. Hyukjae had always lost that one. Sometimes he blamed himself for being so weak in front of his best friend. But he just couldn’t say no to those eyes sparkling with tears, cheeks painted with angry red. Donghae had always claimed that he didn’t want to end up in a foster home. The last straw was usually the “I don’t want to be taken away from you”. And he would keep his mouth shut after that.

“But it only got worse. He followed me in to my room because I had fought back. He was angry. And then, he noticed all of my drawings in my room,” the boy said, angry tears glimmering in his eyes again, “and then all the hell broke loose.”

Donghae wasn’t actually such a ‘bad’ boy. It was more like that God, or whoever, had decided to throw all the bad things to him. That was also why Donghae wasn’t the least bit religious. But his intentions were never bad. He was just too young to take care of himself all by his own, but unfortunately, that was something he needed to do. Hyukjae wasn’t even aware of all the things Donghae had gone through honestly.

His friend was actually almost like a different person when they were alone, or when Mrs. Lee was around. He was sweet, usually polite, and with Hyukjae he was way more sensitive - overall much kinder, than he showed to anyone else. Sometimes Donghae was such a kid; such a puppy which Hyukjae could have only let him lean against his chest and keep caressing those brown locks. Usually the younger one was more like the actual older one of them when Donghae showed to be the braver of them; he wasn’t afraid of the older teens which sometimes picked on them; he would only curse at them and sometimes even fight with someone. And Donghae wasn’t that strong; he was actually quite small, at least smaller, but still stronger than Hyukjae was.

On days like these, Hyukjae got to be the ‘stronger’ one. It was rare, because Donghae didn’t like to show his weaknesses – but every time he did, Hyukjae felt that he was really something special for the other.

“He looked at few of them, but then he glanced at me. For a minute, he was silent,” Donghae continued. “I was scared. Sudden silence isn’t usually good with him. And I was right. His face got eve redder and he started to yell at me; ‘What is this? What the hell is this?’” Donghae tried to imitate his father’s deep voice. He looked even sadder. “I said that those were my drawings.”

The brunette really loved to draw, and damn, he was really good. Hyukjae had always hoped that Donghae would realize it himself too. Once, he had said that he wanted to be an artist when he would grow up.

“And he looked at them again. It felt like an eternity. But then he grasped the drawings with this both hands and destroyed them – almost all of them. I yelled at him to stop.” Donghae’s voice was so much weaker, and Hyukjae swallowed when he saw the tears streaming down on his cheeks. “But he didn’t. He kept yelling that it was all trash. That it was worthless; that his son would never be something so useless like an artist. I yelled at him… I said that he was the useless piece of shit here. He got even madder… He tore them even more. He slapped me. He said that his son would never do something so gay. He said it isn’t a man’s job.”

Donghae was trying to wipe the tears off his cheeks, but he halted what he was doing when he felt Hyukjae’s fingers trailing on his cheeks. The older one was looking at him so tenderly, that he almost just wanted to throw himself into the boy’s arms and just cry all the sadness out of him. But he didn’t do it – he only looked at Hyukjae with his kicked-puppy looking eyes, lips pursed tightly against each other.

Hyukjae glanced at the papers on Donghae’s lap.

“You’re an amazing drawer, Hae,” he said softly, trying not to cry himself because the brunette’s eyes looked so hurt. He wanted to take all the pain away from Donghae, to just make him feel better. But what could he do?

“I think you should become an artist, if you want.”

“You think so?” Donghae asked – voice slightly cracking and in his embarrassment he started to nibble his lips again.

“Yes. I’ve always envied your skills to do arts, because I can barely draw a straight line.”

When he saw that the corner of Donghae’s lips started to twitch while trying to hold a laugh, he knew that the boy wasn’t so sad anymore. And the twitching of his lips was adorable, because he couldn’t keep the smile away much longer, and that if something made Hyukjae gummy-smiling already. He nudged Donghae’s shoulder with his own, seeing a glint of the sadness again when the other possibly tried to contemplate what he should do with the torn papers.

“Let’s go to my place, ok? Take them with you.”

“Why?”

“I’ll repair them for you. Just a bit of tape can do miracles. Mom could probably help,” Hyukjae muttered, thoughtful. “We can put them on my walls after, right? They’d be safe there.”

“Really?”

“Why not? They’re beautiful.”

There was a shy, rare smile lingering on Donghae’s lips, and most important, in his eyes. Eyes were the mirror of your soul. And that certain soul was so important for Hyukjae.

“And don’t mind your dad, Hae,” he said, giving the other an assuring hug. “He’s just too blind to see all the good things in you. You should listen to my mom, because she really adores you.”

When Hyukjae was about to let go of Donghae, the smaller one only tightened his grip on his waist. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” he said, whispering. Donghae wasn’t usually good with words these days, at least when it came to things like this.

“Of course I am, Hae.”

“You will always be my best friend?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Hyukjae,” the brunette said shyly, but he didn’t care when he sensed that his best friend was indeed smiling. Because of that, he was able to smile again too.

 

**7TH OF MAY, 2002**

She was doing her usual routine on that Tuesday afternoon, doing the laundry after she had done the dishes after eating dinner with Hyukjae. She was folding some T-shirts while worrying over Donghae, who hadn’t shown up at their place that day. Donghae was almost like her own son already, and of course she would get concerned when something didn’t go as they usually did. Her son’s best friend would often eat with them anyway. She could afford that to the boy who seemed to be even thinner now that he had had some growth spurt over the winter. Of course she was aware that things weren’t so well at Donghae’s home, but she couldn’t do anything if the boy himself always refused. At least he had approved to eat with them at least thrice a week. That was the least she could do.

And Hyukjae had seemed to be a bit restless too, because it just was the routine that on Tuesday’s they would eat together. But it hadn’t gone as planned, and Donghae hadn’t informed them in any ways. And if Hyukjae was restless, so would she be.

Donghae was witty and quite playful when he was together with Hyukjae, and Hyukjae had become more open and happy after befriending his original bully. They had other friends too, which she was grateful for, but it was obvious that those two were happiest with each other. It was such a mystery for her, but it almost felt like it was something that was just supposed to be the way it was. And she could never think of separating them. A best friend like Donghae was to Hyukjae and other way around wasn’t such a foregone conclusion.

Those two fought like any other friends, but they always made up or just forgot their original squabble because they just couldn’t stay too many days away from each other. If she was remembering right, the longest time they had been separated was two weeks when Hyukjae had gone to see his grandparents last summer.

When she heard the doorbell ringing, she didn’t know if she should sigh in relief or worry a bit more when she heard his son’s distant voice from the hallway.

“Mom!” Hyukjae was calling for her, his voice timid and clearly concerned.

His mother's instincts immediately told her to hurry and grab the first-aid-kit with her. The woman rushed to the hallway, seeing the boy leaning against a wall – all his clothes drenched because of the pouring rain and his face darkened because of a bruise and a cut on his upper lip.

“Goodness! What happened to you, Donghae?” Hyukjae’s mother asked, not waiting for a second to go back to the bathroom to grab few towels for the teenager. She could see that her son was really agitated to do something, but didn’t really know what to.

Donghae looked really worn-out and tired; really tired, like he had all the problems of the world on his way too young shoulders.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Donghae muttered while the woman was already drying his hair with the towel, gently ruffling it around.

She noticed her sixteen year old son gritting his teeth, and she was sure he knew. Well, she could guess too. She was a mother after all, and it hadn’t taken too long to do the math that Donghae’s father was often violent against his son. But it could probably be something else too since Donghae was often having problems with the other kids around his neighborhood.

“Take your shoes and outerwear off, you should take a warm shower or you’ll end up being sick. How long were you out there anyway?” she babbled, now looking at the brunette who was doing as he was told to.

“Well, I guess just few hours…” Donghae mumbled, not seeing the frown on his friend’s face.

“Why didn’t you come here you silly! You should be old enough to understand that it’s not very smart to wander around in weather like that. It’s been raining cats and dogs for the whole afternoon!” She clearly wasn’t mad; it was just the mother in her talking again.

“I don’t know,” the brunette said quietly, although it didn’t seem like there weren’t any reasons for him.

“Hyukjae dear, could you bring him some clothes?” she asked tenderly.

“Yeah.”

She turned her attention back to Donghae. “Now, go get a shower and I’ll warm up some of the dinner for you. I'll check those wounds after.”

Donghae was biting his lip, not looking at the woman in the eyes. He was clearly bothered about all the hassle he was able to cause again. “Thank you,” he then said quietly, staring at the floor. He was still clearly shaken up emotionally.

“You don’t need to thank me, Donghae,” she said heartily, giving a warm smile to the teenager. “You know you don’t, because we love you.” She walked to the kitchen before Donghae could possibly tear up, all of the laundry now forgotten. But it didn’t matter; she could do it at another time.

 

Hyukjae had brought some warm clothes for Donghae, and was now standing at the doorway of their bathroom and observed the boy for a minute while he took off his wet clothes. He could see another bruise on his waist, but at least it wasn’t a big one. Still, he had felt so worried for the whole afternoon, and now he felt angry. He wasn’t even sure what the biggest reason was for his anger; the assumption that it had been Donghae’s father again, or the fact that he hadn’t told him anything sooner? Even now, when Donghae was here and safe his stomach was churning because of the agitation it all caused in him.

He knew Donghae had noticed him standing there, but the younger only kept looking at his own reflection in the mirror. And there were tears trying to escape his eyes again. That was something Hyukjae couldn’t really handle. He had been so worried of the other, and now Donghae was about to cry too. But he didn’t. He was able to keep all the tears inside when he bit the insides of his cheeks so hard it took his mind off the things his dad had said to him again. Still, his voice was weaker than usual when he opened his mouth.

“Can I stay over? For the night? I mean—I just—I don’t want to go home. But only if it’s okay.” He let out a shaky breath, cautiously looking towards Hyukjae.

“I’ll ask her,” Hyukjae answered, contemplating if he should reassure the other somehow. Now when they were a bit older, all the skinship didn’t feel so natural anymore – not that he hated it – it just…scared him. He loved it, actually. But nowadays it was making him feel so weak in his stomach that he wasn’t sure what was going on anymore. “But I doubt that she could ever say no to you.”

And the black haired one was a bit taken aback, when Donghae showed him one of his toothless and most thankful smiles. It was a shy one, but it was honest. With that, he was able to leave the other one alone for the time he took his shower, although the truth was that he wouldn’t have wanted to let him out of his sight. He couldn’t really understand himself either. He was afraid of something he didn’t yet acknowledged, but at the same time he was so darn protective over his best friend. And he just couldn’t figure himself out with all those emotions.

 

Later, when Hyukjae’s mother had sent the boys off to sleep since the next they would be a school day, the younger one of them had tried to sleep on the mattress made for him on the floor. But even almost an hour later, he still wasn’t able to fall asleep. His mind was constantly buzzing too loudly, repeating all the things his father had yelled at him again. All those things that made him feel more self-conscious, worthless, hated. And all he really wanted was just to feel accepted – loved – although he was really grateful about that how Hyukjae’s family seemed to at least care. But after hearing all those negative things through the years it wasn’t so easy to think that anyone could actually love him just the way he was.

He had been turning over and over, thinking and trying to keep all the tears away. He wanted to sleep and forget everything about it already, because it would most definitely happen again. As long as he would have to live with his father, he would need to listen to all of those words coming from the man until he was able to move out on his own.

“Donghae.”

He suddenly heard, and his whole body got tense after hearing his friend’s voice coming a bit above him. He started to think if he had woken up the older, and he gritted his teeth.

“Yeah,” he answered simply, not being sure what the other really wanted.

“He really hurt you, didn’t he?” Hyukjae asked, his voice a bit hoarse from sleepiness but as tender as he could be.

Donghae swallowed, it hadn’t been anything big, or new, honestly but…

“He just…pushed me a bit too hard. I mean he…hit me. And I guess I fell against the coffee table,” he muttered, staring at the darkened wall in front of his eyes while he laid his back towards Hyukjae. Some days, the darkness might have been consoling. Today, it only made him feel smaller, more alone.

“I’m not talking about that, Donghae.”

The brunette could hear how Hyukjae raised his upper body while he leaned against his elbow. He could imagine the tired frown on the boy’s forehead.

“I’m talking about your feelings. I know you can manage with the physical pain… But the moment I saw you I knew he really hurt you this time.”

Sometimes Donghae couldn’t really understand how Hyukjae always found the right words to say. His mere presence made him feel safe and protected, because the worried and somehow anger-filled, protective frown had been hovering his forehead for the whole evening. They had been best friends for few years already, so he could really read the other one without hearing any words. He didn’t want to cry though. He just didn’t. He didn’t cry in front of his father anymore, he usually cried only when he was alone, when no one else could see. It had been over a year since the last time he had cried in front of Hyukjae – except the one time they fought about something really stupid and he was so afraid that he would lose him.

He kept pressing his fingernails against his palms, muscles tensed and hard when he silenced the sobs. Hyukjae couldn’t bear with it any longer, so he moved his cover away and slid his body down from his own bed, crawling under the same duvet with Donghae. When he let out a heavy exhale, he turned the smaller frame carefully around and pulled his quivering body against his own. Only then he could hear him let out an exhausted and pained sob. And they didn’t stop until Donghae just didn’t have any more energy to cry – and for all that time he had kept caressing those soft locks, sometimes wiping his tears and definitely not caring a damn about the fluids staining his chest or shoulders.

He could only think how anyone was even able to hurt a creature so beautiful like Donghae. It might have been the first time when he actually realized how much the brunette mattered to him; how much he was even able to care about him – although, yet he didn’t really understand what all of those feelings could keep inside. He just knew he would never want to let go of that boy.

 

When the morning came and the sunrise had just started to lighten up that side of the world, Mrs. Lee was about to go wake up the boys. After opening the door and seeing his son’s own bed empty and finding them curled up against each other she really did had to harden her heart; because if she wouldn’t do that, she would never be able to wake those two up for school. Maybe for someone else’s mother it wouldn’t have been such a heart-warming sight, but at least she couldn’t make herself see anything wrong in that. For her, she had probably never seen such a strong bond and trust between any kids on that age… All she wanted was, in all honesty, just to see those two happy. Best friends, lovers, it didn’t matter.

Although she wanted to bet for her non-existent farm that if that between those two wasn’t love, she couldn’t say what really was.

When she heard such a pleased sighing coming from Donghae’s way and saw how he snuggled closer to her son, she decided to give up and give those two ten more minutes to keep on sleeping.


	6. 6 | Don’t say a word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions about suicide.

**6 | Don’t say a word**

* * *

 

 

 

**PRESENT DAY**  
 **2ND OF APRIL, 2013**

My heart is still beating like thunder inside my chest when I stop the car in front of the row of high apartment buildings – and it is making me queasy because it’s something that has remained exactly the same as it used to be. Everything is reminding me of the years that have already passed, yet it still feels like it was just yesterday.

But I am so afraid that everything else might have changed too much.

When I turn the engine off after parking the car on its usual spot, I can discern my mother’s bright smile even from the corners of my eyes, and with a fast glance I can also see a glimpse of the blond man sitting on the backseat. His skin is tanned from the hot sun of Thailand, and it’s such a contradictory compared to my own milky and almost pale skin that hasn’t gotten much of any sun during the winter of Korea. His hair, his clothing and his simple posture is all just the exact opposite of my own. He seems calmer than I could ever be, although I clearly see how uncomfortable and uncertain he is underneath. However, the mere possibility to see him again makes it almost impossible to hide the gummy-smile that tries to sneak up on my lips. Donghae makes me feel so curious after two long years of waiting in wonder, but above all of that I am more than nervous and far from fearless.

I only manage to get out of my trance when Donghae suddenly looks at me with an expression I can’t figure out, but it only lasts for a second. He’s already opening his seatbelt and gripping on the strap of his backpack, ready to get out of the car, when I’m just foolishly staring and mentally gaping when my senses seem to be all over the place. Donghae raises an eyebrow at me just before he steps out.

“Hyukjae, stop daydreaming and get out of the car already.”

My mother’s voice suddenly pierces through my ears and with a small grunt I do as I’ve been told to. Feeling utterly stupid I hastily turn around to take a deep breath, noticing how my cheeks are suddenly getting warmer although at the same time I feel like I could freeze. When I finally take off my own seatbelt, a quiet snicker meets my ears, and when the belt slides off my chest the gratefulness that came with that certain snicker surprises me and I think that maybe, just maybe, not so much has really changed after all.

However, while trying to get out of the car my brains decide to betray me when my eyes land on the backside of the blond whose figure has gotten some quite healthy looking roundness on it. The sight standing in front of the other door patiently waiting for us distracts me so much that I end up banging my head straight onto the doorframe upon me. A pained growl escapes from my lips and Donghae turns to look at me, and while I hold my head and slam the door closed with a scowl on my lips, I can’t really ignore the second chuckle. The familiar yet still a bit cautious grin with a glimpse of his crooked teeth showing when he probably isn’t so sure if he can actually still do that makes me think of so many things that the things that I thought I had managed to figure out gets even more messed up.

“Don’t laugh,” I grumble with a pout at the same time I whiz to get my mother’s luggage out of the trunk so that I wouldn’t need to look at him, feeling as embarrassed as ever.

“I’m not,” Donghae says softly, so tenderly that it almost makes me believe him – but the curled corner of his lips tell me otherwise, giving away his tries to not to laugh.

Even though just seeing Donghae laughing at me makes me feel all warm inside, it hasn’t started to lessen my fears when just a mere hour ago I rushed to embrace him without giving it a second thought, and the stunned look over his face told more about the barriers that had been dictating between us than the friendship we used to have. Now, I’m even more scared of facing him when I’m constantly living in fear that he wouldn’t actually have wanted to see me. That the ‘almost everything’ he had wanted to forget had also included me, and it was one of the things that had made me cry so many times during the two years of being apart.

I start walking after my mother and Donghae, and for a long second I forget myself staring at the younger man’s back, thinking if I can still call him as my best friend.

“You still live here?” Donghae notes in a slight surprise, and when our eyes meet for a brief second I see the boy from our late teens and early twenties in front of my eyes again. He looks uncertain; and I ponder what is he thinking, and I have this sudden need to get inside his head; to seek every corner of his mind to be able to understand him again so I wouldn’t feel so lost.

I'm not able to utter a word to answer his question.

With all the questions popping into my head like mushrooms in the rain it feels like I’m going through all these years from the day we became friends to the day he left in fast forward. It feels so absurd to be able to stand beside him, to look him in the eyes, smell the familiar scent with an intoxicating hue of something new, and hear his soft voice ringing in my ears again. I look at him with eyes that have been through a huge emotional bedlam, and the exactly same pain fills every cell in me, tugging on my heart and causing the same storm from years back return inside my stomach again.

He came into my life like a hurricane, and left me hanging in the distortion.

My mother says something when she takes her key and opens the door into the apartment which I know better than myself, but I can’t focus on anything what she’s saying when at the same time Donghae steals a glance of me that makes the beating in my heart so loud I could only drown looking into the deep hazel.

Cold shivers run through me like the first rain of spring.

And I am afraid again.

  
 **28th OF AUGUST, 2009**

He was trying hard to concentrate on the on-going lecture and everything the teacher was trying to say in front of the auditorium, but he was constantly distracted by his own thoughts.

The beginning of the week had been as regular as always until Wednesday, when Donghae had suddenly stopped coming for college. They had their own courses and classes, majoring in totally different subjects in separate units, but he usually met his best friend at least for lunch and most likely after school too if Donghae didn’t have a night shift.

Now it had been two days since the last time he had heard anything about him.

At first, he hadn’t been so surprised, because that was just how Donghae was; he had good grades because he was smart, but there was really none other from Hyukjae and his mother to actually expect anything from him. They were the only ones who wanted the young man to do his best and set goals for himself, and because of that, Donghae usually took school seriously. But because of his home life, there had always been this side of him that was reckless and didn’t want to care. Sometimes Donghae had times when his father was being more difficult than usually, and it easily affected the boy’s behavior and mood, causing him to either isolate himself or cling more tightly to Hyukjae’s presence.

Donghae was the one who smoke, who drank and fought with random guys at bars; the one who had the temper from the two; who was moody and easier to piss off – yet Hyukjae knew exactly it was just Donghae’s way to cope up with things, and that it wasn’t even half of the younger’s personality. Underneath, Donghae was sensitive and he hated to show his full feelings. He didn’t want to cause trouble for his friends or especially for Hyukjae’s family, himself either, but the lack of stable home life and caring parents had left their mark on him. It had always amazed Hyukjae how strong his friend had always been despite everything. If it would have been someone else, they could have lost on their tracks of life a long time ago. But Donghae was still going on, studying to be able to do what he had always dreamed of and doing part-time job as a bartender to fund his studies.

It wasn’t anything new for him to not to come to school for a day if he had done a long night working or if he was just extremely tired – but two days away started to worry Hyukjae.

He had thought about calling or texting, but he knew Donghae rarely told anything if he’d pry too much. The latter needed his own space and time for letting anything out, and the older had learned to respect that. He trusted that he would be the first – and probably only one – to hear anything if Donghae decided to open up.

Yet still, there was this feeling that there was something he didn’t know but he should have.

It was also one of Donghae’s traits, and one of the only ones Hyukjae really didn’t like; Donghae wasn’t one to ask for help. Even when he needed. It was one thing what Hyukjae was able to really get mad about – and it wasn’t because his friend would have been too proud to ask any. No; it was because he thought he should have been strong enough to cope alone – even in situations when no one could have been strong enough without support.

Hyukjae got startled when he suddenly felt his phone vibrating inside his pocket. He was glad that he had put it on silent-mode, but even more about the fact that he had left the vibration on, because when he pulled it out and saw a certain name flashing on his screen, he felt almost relieved. He glanced at his teacher, and when the man turned his back at him, Hyukjae sneaked out of the classroom to answer the call while thanking himself for choosing the seat nearest the door out.

Nonetheless, the name flickering on his screen made him feel uneasy. He didn’t know why, but he had an uncomfortable weight on his chest when he finally answered.

“Donghae where the hell have you—“

He had been a bit annoyed because the younger hadn’t told him anything – and now called when he definitely knew he was in the middle of class – but all of the insults he had managed to come up with disappeared, when after few silent seconds Donghae’s voice echoed through the line in a way he had never heard being so desperate before.

“H-Hyukjae…”

He found himself leaning against the bulletin board on the wall, the heaviness on his chest only growing worse as he heard the silent cries of his best friend. His words were about to get stuck on his throat before he managed to let anything out.

“D-Donghae? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“N-no,” the younger cried, “I-I’m n-not o-okay.”

“What happened? Where are you?” he inquired, now extremely worried.

“C-can you c-come o-over?”

“Your place? I-I’ll be there—just—just wait. I’ll be there in—,” he rambled, looking at the screen of his phone to see the time, “in 20 minutes—I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“P-please… I-I… I need you.”

Donghae’s sobs only turned the knife on his heart harder, and he didn’t know what else to do but rush back into the classroom and snap his belongings with him before hurrying out, without caring about his teacher’s shouts after him.

  
 **30th OF AUGUST, 2009**

The little altar made for the private, small-scale memorial service was decorated with a few simple punches of white flowers and a framed photo that had obviously been taken many years ago already. He smelled the incense his friend had lighted up lingering heavily in the air, and felt how his mother was clasping onto his arm as they waited for Donghae to take his own time to say goodbye. Standing further from the altar staring at Donghae on his bended knees, Hyukjae had to swallow the lump on his throat so he wouldn’t cry just because the brown haired young male was in pieces. He couldn’t stand seeing him as the opposite to the usual, but he had to. He had to be strong for Donghae.

It was hard to stop thinking about the phone call and the cries of his best friend, but what was even harder for the older were the images of finding Donghae sitting on the floor of his own home; shaking, crying and hands stained in dried blood.

Hyukjae had never thought he would have had to witness such a scene; to see a person, he actually didn’t realize how much he cared for, so vulnerable and broken, asking for help probably for the first time in his entire life. It was the first time when Donghae hadn’t known how to hold himself together, and which had forced Hyukjae to strengthen himself beyond his comfort zone.

He would never forget the moment after he had turned the spare key in the apartment’s lock, opened the door and rushed in to see Donghae who had still been crying while staring at his reddened hands and the small letter he had held on his lap. Hyukjae swore the most heartbreaking scene had been the second he’d kneeled down beside the younger who had clasped his hands onto the front of his jacket as soon as he was about to embrace him. Cheeks drenched in salty tears and breathing so erratic he was not far from hyperventilating, Donghae had already dropped the thick wall around him.

As he had tried to look around for a reason to Donghae’s state, eyebrows furrowed in huge concern, he hadn’t been able to grasp on to anything unordinary. The small apartment had been slightly messy, but really nothing else but the brunet’s upset essence had rang any bells for him. Yet still, there had been an unusual heaviness in the air which Hyukjae had acknowledged. Something had been off – really off – and with the agonizing bile down on his stomach growing bleaker, he had understood what Donghae had been trying to utter out for the last few minutes.

It had been weak, just a mere whimper.

“D-dad… H-he killed himself.”

Hyukjae had seen it so many times, when Donghae had come to him with a black eye, or limping, after he had been thrown around and beaten down. Countless times he had seen the frustration radiating from the young boy after getting shouted at how no one deserved a son like him, and how the son had damned his father into the lowest layer of hell. So many times he had had to grit his teeth when he had seen the unshed tears in the boy’s eyes, or the hurt hidden behind the faked smiles that had silently pleaded the older: please don’t ask anything.

The man Hyukjae had grown to hate, when all the man had ever done had been just hurting Donghae.

But despite all the pain, neglect and violence caused by the alcoholism, it didn’t take away the mere fact that the man had still been Donghae’s father; his only family by blood that had belonged into his life. The fact had made him wonder if the man had really deserved to die, when then, in his arms Donghae had cried more than he had ever seen.

Donghae had wanted everything to be done as soon as possible, and with Hyukjae’s family’s help, they had managed to organize the funeral to happen just few days later. Although his mother had helped Donghae to do all the official paper work and such, it had still been such a tough experience for all of them. Not at least for his best friend, who had had to take all the burden on to his own shoulders because there was no one else to do so. For a son like Hyukjae, who had his both parents and saw his relatives once in a while, it was like a cold shower to realize that Donghae didn’t have anyone of his family left. He was the only son, and so had his father been. His grandparents had deceased when he wasn’t even in school yet. About his mother, he only had a one single picture from a time before his birth.

For the older, it had all felt so absurd and unreal. He couldn’t even imagine what the brunet was going through, but for once, Donghae had at least accepted the fact that he needed Hyukjae to be there for him.

He hadn’t been able to prevent his own tears from falling when it had hurt more than anything to see the most important person for him whimpering on his embrace. It felt like the world had grumbled down around Donghae, and the loss had taken everything he used to know with it to eternity.

Hyukjae could still hear Donghae’s broken cries ringing inside his head, and he hoped he could take all those tears and pain away when the younger eventually stood back up in front of the altar. He couldn’t turn his gaze away from the male that had a simple black suit, and his brown, long locks tied onto a high ponytail. It took a while before the younger turned around, shoulders slumped and eyes still red but now without tears. Hyukjae couldn’t do else but bite his own lips as he saw the exhausted and slightly blank expression in his usually lively – or at least hopeful – eyes.

When Donghae got closer to them, his mother let go of his son’s arm and took a step towards the youngest, spreading her arms to embrace him. For once, Donghae didn’t budge and only leaned against the familiar warmth with a wary exhale. Hyukjae watched the situation with eyebrows in a frown that hadn’t left him since few days prior. From the corners of his eyes, Donghae glanced at the black haired male, causing an internal confusion for the older who didn’t know how to answer to that expression. It was clear that the brunet didn’t want pity, so Hyukjae didn’t try to smile. The concern he couldn’t hide from him, though.

His mother leaned a bit further from the male, who she probably still saw as a boy, still holding his arms and looking at him with tender eyes.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” she asked softly, but knowing that she would most likely have the last word.

With a simple nod, Donghae let the woman lead them out while Hyukjae followed close behind, wondering how the life would go on after.

  
 _“I’m sorry.”_

Hyukjae turned to look the other who sat on the couch with a can of soju on his hand.

“Huh?” he had to ask, because for the last ten minutes they had been silent, and as far as he knew, Donghae hadn’t done anything wrong to him.

Eyes downcast focused somewhere in to the void, Donghae looked fragile again. For Hyukjae, he really still sometimes resembled a lot of the kid who used to bully him, but only because he had wanted to be noticed. That kid was someone who had been present for the last few days – but now he understood the reasons, and it made perfect sense. Donghae wanted someone to be there beside him when it hurt the most, and when the life at home had started to get too much. The brunet needed at least someone’s attention and the feeling of being cared of; and it was still Hyukjae.

“The letter,” Donghae murmured, “He said _‘I’m sorry’_.”

For a moment Hyukjae only looked at him while chewing the insides of his cheeks, taking a note of how the brunet’s eyes had started to gleam in tears again.

“And he...” Donghae wiped his eyes, sniffling as he tried to keep his gaze on the ceiling so the tears wouldn’t escape his eyes, but soon he let it down again. He didn’t seem to care anymore. “Isn’t it cruel that the only time he ever says that h-he’s proud of m-me—and that he loves me—is when he writes it on his suicide letter?”

The black haired swallowed.

“He dares to say that he’s sorry—and then he shoots himself only for me to find him all dead and bloody in the place that has been my home although it never felt like that? Through all those years he blamed me... Hit me... Because I was just waste of space. And then he thinks I’d believe him now when he’s dead?”

“Donghae...” Hyukjae started quietly, turning more towards the other who was lingering on the verge of breaking down. He knew he would never really understand what it really was like to experience cruelty like that, year after year for his whole 22 years of life – but damn how much it just pained him to see Donghae acting like this.

“He just...” his friend sobbed, “He just left. Just like that. Like he just wanted to hurt me more.”

Hyukjae closed the space between their bodies, sitting right next to the younger as their thighs were one-to-one. He carefully slid the can out from Donghae’s grip, placing it on to the coffee table of the dim-lit living room of the otherwise empty apartment since his mother had left for her shift.

“Donghae...” He gently tapped the one’s shoulder, trying to get his attention to him again. “I think...what he said was true. He just...couldn’t find any other way to tell you the things he would have wanted to say. This... For him the letter was his last chance,” Hyukjae spoke, hoping that his words would make some sense. He didn’t know why, but thinking about a ‘last chance’ made his stomach flutter in anguish.

Donghae crouched forwards, pulling on his hair as he sobbed and silently cursed under his unstable breath.

“I can't remember if I ever said that,” he wailed hopelessly, “I never meant it to the heart when I said I hated him. I never meant it, Hyukjae…”

His best friend was shaking, and he couldn’t figure another way to help but pull the brunet into his embrace again. His hands curled tightly around the slim body, his jaw placed on top of the other’s brown mop of hair.

“I know you didn’t,” he shushed, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

  
An hour later he was laying on his bed, facing the exhausted form who had drank at least two cans of soju more before Hyukjae had decided to call it for a night. Without a complaint, he had let the younger sleep next to him since he hadn’t seemed to want to sleep alone. As he listened to Donghae’s still quite heavy breathing finally starting to calm down, he softly pecked the other’s silky hair the same way they had sometimes done when they were a lot younger. He wasn’t sure why, but after doing so he felt how the drumming inside his chest got louder. Maybe it was the alcohol again, since he had drank some too just to accompany the other.

A long minute later, when Hyukjae had almost thought the other was already asleep, Donghae pulled himself a bit back from the one he had sought from warmth and safety. Hyukjae’s gaze immediately followed him, and the older took a note of Donghae’s eyes that were slightly glazed from the drunkenness, yet still watery since all the feelings had been pouring over the surface so roughly. Donghae was biting his lips; looking like he was contemplating what to say before he broke their comfortable silence.

“I’m… I’m sorry for being such a mess,” Donghae whispered, his voice slow from the tiredness.

“But I don’t mind, Donghae. It’s okay,” Hyukjae noted, sounding soft yet husky from being so close to falling asleep.

He started to wonder what else was occupying the younger’s mind, when the other had locked his eyes on him, still saying nothing. As he was almost about to ask what Donghae was thinking of, all of his thoughts were thrown out the window when the brunet rose a bit up to lean against his elbow.

“I’m sorry.”

What he didn’t expect to happen next, were the thin, smooth lips meeting with his own. He tasted the tint of soju on both of their lips, and he felt how Donghae’s fingers curled around his neck by stealth. He already had a storm inside his head, and he knew he should have pushed him away, but he didn’t want to. He knew he shouldn’t have been so reckless and kiss him back, but it was like someone had turned off the lights from his head, and the only thing that still existed was his heart. He was shocked, and it got him breathless.

When it ended, it felt impossible to catch his breath and calm the loud beat in his chest. Donghae was still partly hovering over him, eyes glossy before he closed them and bit his lips again.

“H-Hae—“

“I’m sorry. Please… Don’t say a word... I’m just drunk.”

_I’m just drunk._

It was wrong – but why did it feel so right…?

_We’re just drunk._


	7. 7 | You're the cure, you're the pain

AN: just a little warning again; violence, blood.

 

chapter 7  
you're the cure, you're the pain

 

1st OF NOVEMBER, 2004

 

The boy from the upper class kept staring at him while swaying on his feet with a look in his eyes that told everyone that he thought a bit too highly of himself. He was here in Donghae’s classroom only for his own entertainment, and anger had started to bubble inside of Donghae, increasing the comprehensive irritation towards the young male that had been one of his enemies all the way through high school.

The junior was well aware of the fact that starting a fight would only bring him more trouble – which he already had quite enough. All the usual accusations had started circling inside his head; the booming yells from his principal, teacher and his father, every time he let his temper take the upper hand. He had really tried to learn to remain his calm, he really had. But it wasn’t so easy. Unfortunately, Yonghwa had also realized that a long time ago.

Donghae was clasping his nails tighter into his palms, eyes narrowing dangerously towards the older student, as his lips were pursed in a thin irritated line. He had already taken a note of how tense his muscles were, but he didn’t care. This guy probably thought he at least owned their high school if not the whole word. Yonghwa was arrogant and selfish, always seeking for someone to blame for his wrong-doings. Donghae had been hating him for years; they lived in the same neighborhood and Yonghwa had always been on his throat ever since he moved to that area.

“Piss off,” the brunet hissed towards the elder; eyes burning holes through Yonghwa and his gang who were once again picking a fight with him, just for the sake of not having anything better to do.

Yonghwa shared a look with the boys who always followed him like a pack of dumb sheep, the stupid smirk still plastering on his ugly face when he and his lambs had partly surrounded Donghae and the neighboring desk. The other students were eyeing them suspiciously; most of them already knowing that when these two would clash, they would clash hard.

He didn’t really give a thought towards Hyukjae, who was sitting beside him as usual, now observing the quarrel with slightly fearful and intimidated eyes.

Yonghwa gave Donghae a scrutinizing glare, clicking his tongue as he stared at him defiantly.

“Well, I always have the obvious option number two,” he muttered nonchalantly, taking a step more to the other side and stealing the workbook from the neighboring desk—Hyukjae’s—lifting it high up in the air.

“H-hey!” the black haired young male hollered when he realized it was now him Yonghwa had decided to take as his eyesore, trying to snap back his book. In his dark eyes lingered the usual shade of desperation of not knowing what to do, when most of the students never dared to put up a fight against Yonghwa – except from Donghae and some of the other older guys. There was just the matter that he wasn’t the type to respond to fights, and he hated it when Donghae let himself fought with those guys. It didn’t really help when Hyukjae was sitting beside Donghae, being the last straw that would eventually set his best friend off if Yonghwa even dared to look at his way wrongly.

And now, Hyukjae knew that this time too was already a lost cause.

“Oh, you want something?” Yonghwa laughed shortly and tore few pages off from the book while the boy stared at him in disbelief as he tried to reach out for his book even when he simply knew its uselessness.

“Do you want it back, huh? Come and get it, faggot.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Donghae snarled suddenly, fists hidden in his pants pockets, tightly burying his fingernails against his thighs. He was glaring his enemy under his brows, but Yonghwa barely gave him a glare back, ignoring him.

“Piss the fuck off already!” Donghae snapped. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone again; which meant mostly Hyukjae, who would probably keep stressing over Donghae’s wounds and reputation even when the brunet himself had already buried the previous times far from his minds’ reach. He was trying so hard not to get provoked, just for the sake of Hyukjae.

“I wasn’t talking to you this time, Donghae,” the jock said with his typical shit-eating grin, and patted the black hair of Donghae’s desk mate. “But you can join to the fun if you’d like to?” he asked directly from Donghae; the look in the bully’s eyes changing even more ruthless, staring the younger so deep in the eyes and only waiting for him to lose his patience. The brunet was on the verge of starting another war, as Yonghwa then suddenly gripped on Hyukjae’s hair, shoving his head against the windowsill. Hard.

Hyukjae shut his eyes and howled in pain as his occipital bumped against the concrete windowsill of the classroom. The blackness was close to take over, but he managed to keep his consciousness by gripping his head and leaning his elbows against his thighs in an attempt to steady his senses. His head was spinning, and the throbbing pain rather started to increase than cool down.

Before anyone of the other students really understood what was happening, Donghae finally lost it. He pushed his desk with the force he’d gathered from the rod between the desk’s legs as he kicked it against Yonghwa’s thighs and knees. A loud crash echoed in the classroom as the desk fell on the floor upside-down. Yonghwa cursed in pain, and Donghae stood up from his seat, ready to beat the shit out of the guy he hated so much and who was hunching over as he tried to get pass the agonizing feeling.

However, Yonghwa recovered fast and was throwing himself towards Donghae the minute he stood up, clasping to his collar with a deep, despising growl; “You motherfucking son of a bitch!”

If all of the eyes already weren’t staring at the two rivals, now they definitely were glued to them.

Donghae was slightly taken aback by the guy’s menacing entity when his jawbone and cheek collided with Yonghwa’s fist. Not too unaccustomed to this kind of violence, Donghae wasn’t entirely knocked down on the first try. As he was helping himself back onto his feet, he couldn’t leave unnoticed the black spots spinning in front of his eyes, or the aching of his bones. However, he was left a little bit breathless when he stole a glance of Hyukjae who was staring at the redness staining his fingertips on the instant. He knew that the black haired would feel nauseous seeing too much blood. He felt the quilt stabbing his heart, and for him it probably hurt more than the physical pain. It made him remember bits and pieces of all of the times before when he had gotten cuts and gashes from unnecessary fights or getting beaten up by his father. Despite hating the blood, Hyukjae had always made sure to treat his wounds every time he spotted a new one.

They both knew it was just a way for Yonghwa to easily get under his skin and cause ruckus – it had been seen so many times already in the past two years.

He knew the regret would eat him alive inside later, but every time Yonghwa targeted Hyukjae it got the brunet beyond furious. He just couldn’t make himself brush it off; it wasn’t something he was able to handle. His mind was buzzing too loud, already settled for the upcoming fight, when the only thing that actually would go through his stubborn head was Hyukjae’s plead beside him.

“Donghae, stop.” The older boy, now already eighteen, was reaching towards him, fingers grabbing on the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s not worth it. The teacher’s coming in any minute now.”

Yonghwa snorted at them, smirking towards Donghae who was panting like a mad bull ready to attack, until Hyukjae’s touch made him relax his muscles.

“You don’t need any more trouble,” Hyukjae stated, voice softened because of the pain, and as he was starting to feel desperate. His best friend turned his gaze back at him, biting his lips as he tried to catch a breath, focusing entirely to the older boy in the means of sobering up from his anger. Donghae’s forehead creased, feeling conflicted to force himself to listen to the other—who was entirely right. He gritted his teeth, repeating Hyukjae’s voice and words inside his head as he eventually stepped forward and reached down to pull his desk back up. His blood was still running wildly, and his fists were twitching from the desire to punch the older student. But he refused.

“You’re unbelievable – you’re such a fucking wimp, Donghae,” Yonghwa’s laugh suddenly pealed. “Why do you even hang out with that loser? Or is it just that all you ever knew were losers too? Like your father?”

Donghae growled under his breath, slapping his palm against his desk as he glared menacingly into Yonghwa’s eyes. “Would you shut up or do I need to shut your fucking mouth personally?”

“Donghae,” Hyukjae reiterated, standing up to pull Donghae back down although he was already feeling nauseated.

The older student’s vicious expression didn’t falter. “Just wait Donghae, I’m going to crush your worthless world around you. Just wait.” With that, Yonghwa left just in time to avoid stumbling onto their history teacher.

The mad daze Donghae had just been filled with started to fade, and he turned to Hyukjae in concern, only to see the slightly pale face and red stain on his forehead. He felt like shit for doing this again, and causing such things happen to Hyukjae, who was the last person on this earth who would deserve something like that. The latter’s eyes were somewhat glazed, and Donghae felt horrible.

“L-let’s go see the nurse.” 

“But Donghae—“ 

“You’re bleeding.” 

“But I’m fine,” Hyukjae fought, obviously not fine though. 

“You're not fine,” Donghae said with a wary tone, feeling cold shivers on his shoulders as he grabbed from Hyukjae’s hand and pulled him out of the classroom. 

 

 

31st OF DECEMBER, 2006 

 

"What's your step." 

"Stop fussing, Hyukjae." 

"It's seriously slippery. Even I have problems staying on my feet, and I'm not the one having crutches," Hyukjae thought aloud, taking a leap over the black ice that flickered through the powder of snow. 

"I think I'm going to survive, I have four legs now," Donghae scoffed, yet his eyes were glued to the ground underneath. Having a broken ankle in the middle of winter wasn't the most convenient, and it was all thanks to his father. 

Thinking about it made Hyukjae silently fume inside. At least, it hadn't been the hardest thing to convince Donghae to spend most of the holiday's with Hyukjae's family. Yet one day in between Christmas and New Years', Donghae had gone home for mere fifteen minutes to catch some of his stuff, and this had happened. His father, as always, had been roaring drunk. One small change of words had led to a fight, and eventually to a broken bone. As Donghae had returned home few days later, the elder had made sure he wouldn't be going alone this time. 

It was only few hours till midnight, and the new year. Hyukjae's mother probably had dinner and movies waiting for them, as they would be spending the night rather calmly this year. Either of the friends had no problem with that. Hyukjae's family had always welcomed the younger with open arms, even after all those years. Donghae didn't complain – Hyukjae and his folks were the closest thing he had to a family, and he would be forever grateful for that. Even if he didn't always say his thankfulness aloud. 

"You know I would have made it fine alone to your place," the younger grumbled. 

Hyukjae smiled to himself. 

"I know." 

A short, comfortable while later a voice suddenly echoed in the dark alley, startling them both. 

"Well, what do we have here." 

Hyukjae peeled his eyes toward the voice. A dark figure stood on the other side of the street, hands tucked deep in the parka jacket's pockets, away from the cold. He could have sworn the voice was familiar, but not until the man stepped into the street light's halo, he could remember. The guy from high school, who used to be his best friend's sworn enemy, was now standing in front of them. And he had thought they would never need to see that jerk ever again, yet here he was, as irritating as ever. 

"Who would have thought we would meet again," Yonghwa laughed shortly. An eerie grin hovered over the man's face as he finally took calculating steps closer after a moment of silence. 

Worried eyes turned towards Donghae, who was seemingly trying to keep all soon to-becoming words from getting under his skin. He would not have had a chance against Yonghwa with his crutches, and in a way, Hyukjae was thankful of that, because now Donghae wouldn't be able to fight. He had seen enough in the past; he didn't want to see any more pain caused to the other. 

"Still hanging around with this loser," the man snickered, swiping his hand a little too close to Hyukjae's face. He turned back to Donghae. "And it seems your father, or someone else fortunate, has already beat you up. What a pity. I was really looking forward to doing it myself. And yet, nothing's stopping me from doing so anyway." 

"Fuck off," Donghae snarled back, standing behind Hyukjae and leaning against his crutches as he held his plastered leg in the air. Hyukjae was sure Donghae would have jumped the guy immediately if he wasn't already hurt. They had been like oil and water through all their high school years until their last semester, when Yonghwa had been suspended after he had beaten another guy into a hospital bed. 

It was all so ridiculous. There had never been no one legit reason for them to keep vexing each other. It had just always been like that. All of this nonsense had already caused so much unnecessary pain. Donghae didn't need any of that. He already had enough problems. Yet there always seemed to be someone ready to pour more fuel to the fire time after time. It was all meaningless. It made no sense to anyone yet it never seemed to end. 

"I could beat you up so good, just for the old times sake. I bet I could make you hurt so much worse than the guy I sent to hospital back in the days. Your leg wouldn't be nothing compared to that..." 

Anger was dangerously starting to bubble inside Hyukjae's chest, and a low growl rose from his throat against his own expectations. 

"Don't you dare." 

Yonghwa's eyes widened, only to laugh out loud, humored. "Or what? You don't have the guts to beat me up even if you wanted to." 

The accused male grit his teeth together, taking a surprisingly brave step toward the man he had learned to hate almost as much as his best friend did. His words could have been true—in the past. Hyukjae had always been one to steer away from fights, but the mere chance that Yonghwa would do anything to Donghae could be enough of a reason for him to step out of his comfort zone tonight. He had been worried sick after hearing the latter's misfortune, and this time he probably wouldn't be willing to let anyone go easy. 

Even if Hyukjae didn't notice, Donghae felt conflicted. He wanted to do as he always had, push even harder against their tormentor and show him what he was made of. He had never really been scared of him. There was only hate. Pure hate that had its roots somewhere very deep inside of him. But he knew there wasn't much of resistance in him with a broken leg. However, something in Hyukjae's tone alarmed him. He wouldn't have believed Hyukjae to step up for him like that, because he had never really done it before. 

"You've always been a coward, Hyukjae," Yonghwa stated. "What are you going to do, huh?" He kept going, suddenly throwing a punch on Hyukjae's stomach, leaving him breathless and crouching over in pain. 

Donghae winced as he saw Hyukjae gasping for air, eager to throw his crutches away and answer to the call to fight. But his broken bones hurt so much he knew he wouldn't be able to keep standing without them. 

"Oh wow, isn't it fun to watch, Donghae? Your 'pa must really hate you for breaking your bones. Oh, do I envy him." 

"You son of a—," Donghae started, but was interrupted when his only working leg was kicked off underneath his weight. He fell backwards on top of the freshly fallen layer of snow, crying out loud as his injured bones hit against the icy asphalt. 

All Hyukjae could hear was Donghae's pained voice, and all the anger, hatred and frustration won over his senses. He was already jumping himself onto the man they both loathed before he had a chance to stop himself, grasping to the jacket's collars, pouring them on to the ground. He wouldn't have thought he would actually find this side of himself, but all he could think of was Donghae's pain, and he could only handle it to a point. Donghae had always, always, defended him, fought for him, despite how much energy he had had to waste to just to defend himself. 

Hyukjae had no idea about all the words he shouted into the night as his fist kept meeting with the guy's jaw over and over. He had no idea of the guy's cries of pain, or the redness that had started to paint his own fingers after a while. He had no idea what was happening around him anymore. All that mattered was the unleashed anger. 

"Hyukjae—!" Donghae wailed. The younger couldn't believe his eyes. He had never seen his best friend like this, and he had always hoped he would never need to. Donghae tried to group for his crutches, leaning against his healthy knee, gritting his teeth in pain when he tried to get himself up. It wasn't easy, it hurt like hell, but he would never forgive himself if Hyukjae would end up doing something he would regret the rest of his life. 

"God damnit, Hyukjae! Listen to me!" He grabbed one of his temporary life-lines, pushing himself up in haste. He tried to haul Hyukjae off from the man's neck, feeling desperate. It felt like it was all his fault. Again, and again, and again. It was always his fault if his best friend got into trouble. He wasn't going to allow this to go further. Even if Yonghwa totally deserved it. 

"It's not worth it!" Donghae shouted, remembering how Hyukjae had once told him the exact same words. It was so not worth it. 

Listening to the crackling noises, he was finally able to tear the other off of the man. Hyukjae was panting and floundering, trying to free himself, as if he had no common sense left in his angered brain. 

"Stop! You don't want to do this!" 

Yonghwa's face was painted with his own blood, as he coughed and spat out some of it that had filled his mouth with probably pieces of his teeth. The man tried to sit up, finally succeeding, eyes filled with something quite odd for a guy like him. His horrified eyes told enough of the surprise of seeing the previously so-called 'loser' in this way. Yonghwa didn't even try to say a word, when he hurriedly got himself up from the ground and started running like a dog who had his tail between his legs in frighten. 

Donghae almost thought it might be the last time they would ever encounter like this, since Hyukjae's behavior might have scared him for good to never dare to threaten his life to disturb them again. 

"Calm down, come on Hyukjae," Donghae said, voice starting to become calmer as Hyukjae was starting to come back to himself when the younger's arms were tightly pressed around him. 

"You're fucking crazy," Donghae uttered with a half-laugh, bewildered. 

Hyukjae was still catching his breath, trembling, adrenaline filled hands brought up. His knuckles were torn and bloody, and although Donghae couldn't see Hyukjae's expression, he was quite sure the guy was as surprised as any of them. His leg was hurting underneath Hyukjae's weight leaning over him, but he couldn't care less. Despite the happening being crazy and half-way scary, somewhere inside of himself he felt proud. Maybe it wasn't the most obvious thing to feel, but something was palpating erratically due to a feeling he couldn't quite give a name to.

"I'm fucking crazy," Hyukjae finally answered, not sure how to feel about it. A part of him couldn't believe he actually had attacked Younghwa. He wasn't necessarily proud of himself at all, but it still felt as if something had just been unlocked. Not a beast, nor a monster, but rather a realization of the bond he had with Donghae. How he was willing to risk his life for his best friend. And how he would be willing to do it again, if he ever needed to.

Neither of them didn't say a word during the minutes Hyukjae tried to get his breath into place. Staring at his hands, Hyukjae soon saw how Donghae's fingers came to touch his bloody ones, stroking over the sore knuckles as they sat uncomfortably on the ass-freezing ground.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Donghae hushed softly, resting his forehead against the back of Hyukjae's head.

The older didn't say anything, but he knew, he wouldn't have known either.

 

 

AN: It's been a while... :)  
So, sorry if I'm a little rusty.


	8. 8 | 'Cause if you're not really here, then the stars don't even matter

chapter 8  
'cause if you're not really here, then the stars don't even matter

 

 22nd OF MARCH, 2011 

It had only been two weeks. Two weeks, yet it felt like decades. The last days had been just a blur; as if he had been the only one standing still when everything else kept going on around him. He was living in a bubble no one really had the tools to break. His world had suddenly grumbled into pieces, which he had been left to collect alone. His hands were tied, his mouth sewn shut, and his heart torn out of his chest. Was there something he should've done? Was there something he should have said? Should he have done more to stop Donghae from going? And what was it that Donghae had really wanted to forget?

“–jae.”

The bitter taste in his throat didn’t seem to want to go away.

“Hyukjae?”

The spoon in the coffee mug clonked against the material, spilling the dark liquid on the table. His almond eyes’ gaze rose to take a look at the girl who sat on the other side, opposite to him. He must have dozed off, as realizing he was in a coffee shop with his girlfriend muddled him. How long had he been sitting there? She was beautiful as ever, but he couldn’t feel a thing.

“S-sorry,” he apologized with haste, sighing as he took a napkin to wipe the spilled drink.

Hyoyeon stared at her boyfriend who had been the apple of her eye for a while. But something had changed - ever since his best friend had left the country, the man had been really out of it. And maybe it had been like that even longer than that. It was only now that she’d started to pay real attention to it. His eyes had had that hollow look in them longer than she’d dared to admit; he had withered away from her like slow motion quicksand – and she felt terrible because of it.

Long gone was the man she had fallen in love with. The man who always made her laugh; who didn't mind her small quirks; who always treated her well. But now that she’d seen the change, the observation was gut wrecking; Hyukjae wasn’t happy, and she hated seeing him like that. She didn’t want to be the one caging someone who desperately needed to be let free. And if she was being honest with herself, something in his behavior didn’t even surprise her anymore. They hadn’t really spent much time together in a while, nor did Hyukjae contact her as often as he used to. She had had her doubts if their relationship should go on for months, but until now, Hyoyeon hadn’t quite found the courage to bring the whole subject up.

“It’s alright,” she said with a soft tone, biting her lower lip in thought. She knew she loved him, with all her heart, and the fact eventually made her decision easier; she’d rather go back to being friends than keep Hyukjae away from something better. She wanted to see the spark in his eyes again.

Noticing that Hyukjae was sinking back into the daze of countless sighs and silence, she sucked her fear up, deciding it was time to address the invisible elephant in the room.

“Hyukjae.”

It took a second for Hyukjae to grasp to the call, but his almond eyes finally turned to look into Hyoyeon’s; a little reserved, glassy and longing.

“Yeah?”

She had never even considered if Hyukjae could have cheated her; she honestly didn’t think the guy would have it in him. She knew him well enough to not even think something like that; Hyukjae had always been a sweetheart - he was caring and thoughtful, and she knew he would never hurt a fly without plausible reason. Hyukjae didn’t complain even if he would have had a reason for it. But the matter that she wasn’t the one who could’ve made him happy, was reason enough for her. And as she started to think it further, a realization of something suddenly hit her. She’d never been able to bring out the same Hyukjae a certain someone had always managed to do; she’d never been the one to cause the brightest smiles, or the most heartfelt laughters. She wasn’t the one who heard Hyukjae’s deepest thoughts, or who he’d reveal his secrets to. She had never been the one who Hyukjae would’ve climbed over mountains for. She’d never been the one who Hyukjae truly loved within, even if the man didn’t even know it himself - it had always been someone else; someone she could never really compete against.

The bottomless pit down on her stomach wasn’t there for nothing.

Hyoyeon let her tense shoulders slowly relax as the fog started to clear off around the truth. With a soft sigh, she placed her hand over Hyukjae’s after a seconf of hesitation, looking him straight in the eyes. Nothing in her tone foretold about any anger she could’ve had inside. She finally understood; it was time to set things right.

“You’re unhappy.”

The words got Hyukjae’s attention as the confusion grew on his face; it wasn’t something he’d expected to hear, yet it was the truth, and it didn’t surprise him. He couldn’t believe how right she actually was, and the realization took him off guard.

“What?”

Hyoyeon flashed the man a half-smile, a little sad, yet understanding.

“This—us—it’s not what you want, is it?”

“What are you talking about?” Hyukjae asked, not certain about the underlying intention his girlfriend had. She didn’t seem angry at him at all, which didn’t help him to figure out the sudden subject of conversation. And because of it, guilt was building up inside of him, climbing up his throat and making it very hard to breathe. He knew he hadn’t been properly present in a while; he had been too lost in his own thoughts, in his own maze of emotions. He hadn’t given her a lot of attention lately. He just couldn’t be himself - and he knew the exact reason for it.

“I know you love me in your own way… And I love you,” Hyoyeon replied, but a wary exhale followed. “I know you’re a good guy, Hyukjae, and you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, but seeing you like this screws my heart. I… I love you enough to admit that your heart isn’t for me to keep.” She took a little break, trying to collect her thoughts in order, searching for the right words.

“But I’d never cheat—,” Hyukjae yelped, but the woman cut him off. He sat straight on his chair, clenching his fist.

“I know that,” she reassured. “I know you’d never do that.” It seemed to help unload the tension just a bit, but it took a moment for her to finally say it out loud. “I’m just not who you really want. I don’t think you’ve even realized that yourself.” She gave him a small look, and the reaction it caused confirmed her assumption. Hyukjae was biting down on his lips as if he’d gotten caught red handed on something, but the uneasiness controlling him was transparent. Hyukjae was still battling with his feelings.

“You deserve to be happy,” Hyoyeon murmured, fiddling with the napkin that had come with her drink. “As much as I do. And if I’m not the one for you, it’s time for me to let you go.”

Hyukjae stared at her with a blank head. He couldn’t grasp onto the things he’d just heard; he couldn’t believe she was doing this; that she could see right through him. Even though she was right about everything.

It might break her, but she thought it was still the best thing to do for both of them. Probably the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. But the right thing usually wasn’t the easy one.

Hyukjae was frozen on his seat. He hadn’t been a good boyfriend, but had he really been that bad? He never wanted to hurt Hyoyeon, and he’d managed to do it anyway.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out,” she went on as she noticed the surprise on the young man’s face. “And I don’t want to be that kind of a girl who desperately tries to make things work when they’re just not supposed to.”

“Hyoyeon...”

She gave Hyukjae a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

All the noises going around the café were suddenly very loud in the black haired man’s ears, and for the first time in a while he was truly present in the moment. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries filled his nose as his head tried to make some sense of it; she was breaking up with him, and Hyukjae had to agree that the feelings he used to have had faded away way before this. It might have been months.

Or did he ever really love her the way he thought he did?

Hyukjae raised his hands, drowning the slim fingers through his hair with a troubled inhale of air. The engagement ring he’d bought had been buried inside his dresser since the day Donghae left, and he hadn’t thought about it after that. Now the thought of proposing seemed so distant and confusing that he couldn’t believe he’d ever talked himself into buying the whole thing. The fight after telling Donghae about his plan rushed back into his mind, and he almost wanted to laugh at himself. How stupid was he?

He couldn’t even find any words to say; he didn’t know what he wanted to say, or what he should’ve said.

Hyoyeon flashed him a light smile, following it with a humm. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, feeling as if a dark cloud was drifting away as the relief started to take over.

“We were friends for a long time before we started to date,” she noted after a minute as everything was still sinking in, a little curious and hopeful. “Do you think we could remain friends?”

Hyukjae bit his lip, staring at the coffee cup. The liquid had already gone cold. He didn’t think he was worthy of Hyoyeon’s friendship, but if one thing was clear, it was the fact that he didn’t want to lose her forever.

“Yes...” Hyukjae swallowed, “Of course.”

She had always been a good friend. But why had they started to date? There had been attraction, but was it never more than that? Had the first night they had spent together been merely escapism; his way to avoid the feelings that had been bombarding him way before that? He had had a fight—one of the only ones—with Donghae the day before that. There had been a party, and Hyoyeon being his friend, had been there with him. He couldn’t stop thinking, if all it ever was, had been build upon a lie. A lie that he’d tried to hide for so long. Did Hyoyeon know that?

As Hyukjae kept mulling everything quietly inside his own head, Hyoyeon took the opportunity to continue speaking her mind.

“To think about it, I think we were always better off as friends,” she noted, causing the man opposite to her wince. “But I’m okay with that. I liked you a lot back then, and I just couldn’t help myself when you gave me the opportunity for more.”

Hyukjae shifted on his seat and buried his face onto his hands.

“Hyukjae… I don’t blame you for anything. We had a good time while it lasted,” she muttered, patting the back of Hyukjae’s hand.

“I’m...” he lowered his hand back on top of the wooden table, pinching the bridge of his nose with another. “I’m so sorry.” There were no words for the turmoil inside him. Hyoyeon didn’t deserve this, and he had almost managed to propose to her. What kind of a mess it could’ve become, if he really had?

“I’ve been such a jerk,” Hyukjae uttered with wary exhale.

“Come on,” Hyoyeon laughed, “I should’ve seen it before.”

“Seen what?” the man glanced at her from under his thick, furrowed eyebrows.

“That you were already in love when I made my move that night,” she laughed, “That it wasn’t me you really wanted.”

“You...” the word fell off his lips.

“Only after Donghae left I started to realize the signs. And I should’ve seen it! How could I’ve been so dumb?”

Hyukjae didn’t think Hyoyeon was the dumb one here. He was. He’d been for his whole life. The color was rushing back to his face, redder than she’d ever seen before.

She leaned her cheek against her palm, raising her eyebrows towards the male. “It’s always been Donghae, hasn’t it?”

Hyukjae’s face turned white. It was the first time he’d ever heard it said; the first time anyone made it sink in. He’d thought about it so many times; that if it was really true that he felt more for his best friend than he wanted to. He’d had so many disturbing thoughts about Donghae that he’d started to think that there was something seriously wrong with him. But he wasn’t crazy—he’d just fallen for his best friend. He’d fallen so slow for him, that he hadn’t seen it coming. Yet there it was, now ripped wide open on the table. It was out; he was out and there was no point on trying to deny any of it.

His insides were churning and turning, the matter causing painful thuds inside his chest.

“I didn’t know I...” Hyukjae started, glueing his sight back to the table. How did Hyoyeon take it so lightly? She wasn’t mad or angry at all, and she had every right to be. It must not have been the greatest moment to realize her boyfriend was actually into men—or rather, into one certain man.

“I didn’t understand any of it before he left,” he finally confessed with a sigh. The last few months had been mentally exhausting, and Donghae leaving hadn’t made it easier. “I-I… We were so close for my whole life, that I couldn’t see the difference. I didn’t know how much he...”

“How much he meant for you before he was already gone.”

Hyukjae gave her a look, finally seeing a glimpse of sadness in her expressive eyes.

“Exactly...” He fiddled the spoon, as all of the previous battles he’d fought with himself suddenly had a reason. Why it had taken him so long to admit it? Donghae was gone, and he had no idea when he’d return. If he’d return. All the things they had done together came to light. He started to understand why Donghae had left. Hyukjae was too weeks late. Two weeks late to realize that they had always been in love with each other.

And the frustration, all the fear, the longing, the heartbreak… It came rushing back to him, gnawing through his bones and making his skin to brittle.

Donghae was gone.

“And it’s too late now,” he whispered to the thin air, staring through the cafés’s window, out to the winter scene. “I’m… I’m too late.”

Hyoyeon bit her lip, seeing the depressed look on her now ex-boyfriend’s face who happened to be in love with a man. But for some reason, she didn’t care. It wasn’t news to her, as if she’d known all along, somewhere in the back of her head, and she’d just helped him to see his true self. Now she only saw him as a friend, and it was enough.

“Hyukjae...” she noted, voice very soft, “I don’t think it’s ever too late for you two. He’ll come back to you.”

“How would you know that?”

She offered him one of her lopsided smiles. “If I ever looked you the same way Donghae looks at you, I would always come back for you.”

 

1st of January, 2013

It was few minutes past midnight; few minutes into a new chapter of his life, yet it felt like he was still clinging to the remains of the first ones.

Two years in a new country, with new culture, new people, new friends to hang out with who still weren’t enough, a new job, a new apartment – a whole new life and it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what he wanted. He enjoyed the burning sun, the monsoons during winter, the crowds of people walking beside him through the busy streets where he wasn’t anything to anyone but himself. There were a lot of things he loved about living there, but even after all that time, a crucial piece was missing. He couldn’t truly enjoy the white beaches, the parties that started as the sun fell and stopped when it rose; all the new people around him that were nothing but welcoming but didn’t make him feel at home; the small apartment with a view to the sea, but what was nothing to the one compared in the suburds of Seoul with the boring view of gray buildings next to another.

A drink on his hand, people dancing around celebrating the upcoming year, Donghae had never felt so alone; so out of place, so out of time.

Every single day he regretted leaving. There were good moments, even great ones he wouldn’t have wanted to miss, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same without him; nothing was as worthy as Hyukjae always made everything feel. And he had thought about it, countless times, how one single person was able to make such a difference. The life he had there, it wasn’t bad. But he knew, he felt it so deep under his skin, the faint grumbling of his heart, that he would’ve been happy sitting on a worn-out couch, or running through the same old streets under pouring rain, fighting over which chips to take in a 24/7 gas station, if he had been able to spend those moments with Hyukjae.

The sand tickled on his toes, a plastic flower garland around his neck, as he sat on the dark beach as fireworks exploded in the sky one after another, his thoughts somewhere far away.

Would there be anyone left waiting, if he decided to go back home?

And as another firework rode up to the sky, spreading purple spots across the darkness, his pocket started vibrating. Mind sailing over other things, he absent-mindedly picked out the phone. The words Unknown number flashed through the screen, as Donghae stood up from the ground, wiping the sand off from his legs with his other hand. Furrowing his eyebrows, he decided to answer. It was most likely one of his friends giving him a drunk call, and he didn’t really mind a distraction.

Clearing his throat, he answered. “Hello.” There was half a minute of silence, before he recognized the spoken Korean.

“Hello,” the voice said, and it was a female voice. “Is this…. Is this Donghae?”

Donghae stopped on his tracks. He couldn’t quite place the voice with a name, although it seemed distantly familiar.

“Yes...” he answered, puzzled. “Who is this?”

“It’s Hyoyeon.”

Something sunk low on on his stomach, like an avalanche that swept through mountain sides. She was one of the core reasons he had left in the first place, so why would she be calling him now, of all times? Everything started running in circles inside his head; menacing, fearful, anxious. What if they were married now? What if something had happened to Hyukjae? What if—

“Are you still there?” Hyoyeon asked, unsure, as a much longer moment had passed silent than Donghae had thought.

“Uh,” Donghae grunted, sauntering through the beach and the drunken, partying people, his head hanging low. He had no idea what to expect from the call. “Yeah. I’m still here.”

“I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, I have no idea what the time is over there,” Hyoyeon started, and Donghae fought hard to find any evidence to a reason for the woman to call him.

Donghae bit his lower lip. “It’s… It’s not a bad time.”

A relieved sigh came through, and Hyoyeon tried to go on, but she was not quite sure how to start.

“I know—I know it’s been almost two years. I know you probably don’t like me very much, and I take no offence in that. But I think—I think you need to know something. I want you to know something,” Hyoyeon sounded half serious, half uncertain.

“Okay?” Donghae replied, his eyebrows sinking lower, kicking the sand with his bare feet.

“Hyukjae…” she started, taking a deep inhale. “He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

Donghae’s skin started crawling, the cold shivers running down his spine and bare arms, and the pit down his stomach dropped lower.

“And I don’t know if you knew, if you had any idea how he felt— But I broke up with him not long after you were gone. I couldn’t stand watching him suffer with me,” Hyoyeon took a break, still struggling to find the right words. “And I don’t know how much you’ve kept contact, in my understanding not a lot, but he’s…”

He couldn’t quite catch where she was going, and it frightened him. She sounded concerned, if not desperate.

“Maybe it’s easiest if I… I mean, I found a letter from his apartment. It’s been crumbled over and over so many times that I barely make sense of it. Tonight... He’s already wasted. He's been telling me over and over how much he wanted to send it to you, but he never did and… He doesn’t know I’m doing this. I just think you need to know," she explained with exasperation, voice a little tense, as if Donghae's reaction worried her. "Well, here goes... His words are a thousand times better than mine. It’s been dated 24th of December.”

Donghae tried to swallow away the bile on his throat.

“Donghae,” the letter went, “I never understood how much our friendship meant for us. First, you bullied me in school. When you did, you made me cry often. I didn’t want you to know that, but I don’t think that’s such a big deal anymore. Anyway, you became my friend. You were my—are—my best friend. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend than you. And the years went by, and you stayed. You were always there, you were always by my side, even when things went sideways more often than not. You were there when I needed you, and I tried to always be there for you. I never took you for granted.

“Until I did. I didn’t… I didn’t realize how much you really meant for me. I mean, really. I know I was a dickhead sometimes, and you were too, just for your information. But you were the most important person in my life. Above all else.

“And I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it before you were gone.

“Do you remember… The night of your dad’s funeral, when you kissed me? Because I do. You said you were just drunk, but it was… It was more than that, wasn’t it? I was so stupid. For years, I didn’t get it. You were right there, and I just didn’t see the forest from the trees. I loved you, as a friend. I always did. But until you were gone, I didn’t really get what real heartbreak meant.”

Donghae dropped down on the sand, tears already flowing down his cheeks.

“I know I broke your heart and you left because of it. How stupid has a person to be to not see that? I didn’t see it. You had to leave for me to understand. To understand what I felt for you.You never told me, but I wish you did. I wish I did. And that’s why I’m trying to write this. To tell you how much you mean to me. I don’t know if you care, or if you’re ever coming back. But if this is the last thing I get to tell you, I want you to know that I fell for you during all those years, because of everything we’ve been through together. You were my shadow, my hero, my sanctuary. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before it was too late. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Hyoyeon’s voice had broken at halfway point, and it cracked with sobs as she tried to mutter out the last line.

“It’s been almost two years and I still fucking love you. With all my heart, I love you Lee Donghae.”


End file.
